Chapter Four: In which Lena falls into a pit of Self (and others) Loathing
Carter Holmes's P.O.V
I've always been an early riser, though I wasn't the only one in the dorm. Lena was already gone when I woke up at 5:30, bed neatly made. Her cat glanced up lazily, and yawned pointedly. "Well screw you too." I said, and then felt annoyed at myself for talking to a cat. I must be going sort of crazy. Probably got that habit from my mum. Toby, our cat, could apparently not go without a conversation with dear mother. I went down to the Great Hall, and was rather disappointed to see that there was no food. There was, however, a pitcher of coffee that a teacher had left. I poured myself a Styrofoam cup, and quickly left before the teacher had a chance to come back. I went outside and wandered around the lake, enjoying the misty air. As I came to a willow tree, I heard voices, raised in argument.
"When I was teasing you about getting into Gryffindor, it wasn't a challenge!"
I hid behind the tree as they came closer.
"I feel bad enough already Draco! God, give it a rest! I didn't ask to be put in Gryffindor!" It was Lena.
"Just because you didn't ask doesn't mean it's not your fault." Her companion was a tall, pale blonde in Slytherin robes.
"Don't you think it's worse for me?! But no one's saying 'Gee Lena, that sort of sucks for you', are they? No one's saying 'I'm sorry you're in Gryffindor with a bunch of mudbloods and crazy yahoos'. But NOOO! Instead I get 'Lena, how could you, you've put our family to shame'. As if I had any say in the matter!" she said, voice rising.
"You were right about one thing. You have brought shame to the family."
"Ooh, the family. You're like a broken record! All you care about is the family. More like the family's honor that is. If you actually cared about the family you would be less concerned about shame and more concerned about the fact I'm stuck in a room with mudbloods, the purple haired devil spawn, and a Weasley blood traitor."
"You should fit in just fine then, blood traitor. And speaking of the family, I wonder what Mum and Dad will make of this?" I could hear the sneer in his voice.
"Don't tell them!" Her voice shifted, and she sounded panicked. "Please Draco! They'll be furious!"
"It's too late. I sent them an owl last night." There was smug victory in his voice as his footsteps crunched away on the slightly frosty grass. I watched as Lena stood alone by the side of the lake. She stared at it, as if she was contemplating whether or not to drown herself in it. Then she turned and trudged away, the mist unable to consume the glow of her red hair. Well, that wasn't dramatic at all, I thought sarcastically.
Should I talk to her? I listed out the reasons why I should and shouldn't. She'd try her best not to hit me, masking her emotions. She might force me to tell not a soul. Would I? She did deserve the secret out. But I'm no Slytherin. And my mother, loyal as ever, would definitely have me follow her example. Maybe I should try to befriend her? I could! She could definitely be used as an advantage to myself. I could even possibly on the plus side convince her that Gryffindor isn't all that bad. HA! It might take years. Then years it'll take. I needed a goal to set myself while I was here. The spells would be obviously too easy. I'd already memorized most in my spellbook. So, my goal this year: Befriend Lena Malfoy, whether she liked it or not.
Rebecca Granger's P.O.V.
I woke up and groggily wiped the sleep out of my eyes. Carter and Malfoy had left the room and Brook was still sleeping, but Ginny was digging through her trunk furiously. I went over to see what she was doing but quickly snapped her trunk closed when I got close. She looked up.
"Sorry, I thought you were the Malfoy-ette," she said. I noticed she kept her trunk closed.
Brook, Ginny, and I proceeded down to the Dining hall together. After several dead ends and wrong turns we descended down the great staircase but halfway down Brook's foot got stuck in a disappearing step. We pulled her foot out, but not before many more people came flooding down the staircase. A boy with messy black hair and a thin scar shaped like a lightning bolt I recognized as Harry Potter came up to us accompanied by Ron, the youngest of Ginny's four older brothers attending Hogwarts. Ginny ducked her head and blushed as Harry said hello and was silent the rest of the way down to the Great Hall.
After we had exhausted the fun of teasing Ginny, Brook and I scanned the Hall for Carter while ravenously consuming food. Suddenly, Brook started to choke. I smacked her on the back. "What is it?" I asked. Eyes watering, she pointed across the Hall, where Carter was talking to the Malfoyette. And the Malfoyette was giving her a somewhat civil look. I watched, feeling slightly sick as Carter said something and Malfoyette gave a crooked half smile. "What the-?" said Brook, communicating my feelings perfectly. "Hell." I finished.
Lena Malfoy's P.O.V
I was, much to my surprise, adapting. Although it would probably secure my title as a 'blood traitor' in Draco's eyes, I didn't care. Carter was actually quite bright, and while I wouldn't go so far as to call her a friend, I knew she wouldn't slit my throat while I was sleeping. My other roommates were another story. I was quite certain that all of the "accidents" that had taken place were actually assassination attempts, and the fact that I did quite well in the one class we'd had so far today, Charms, didn't seem to endear me to them either.
Soon it became apparent that our DADA teacher, Professor Lockhart, was an absolute idiot. He started with a long speech about how amazing he was, dramatically swirling his turquoise robes as he paced. I wasn't really paying attention until he announced that there was going to be a quiz on all of his books. I muttered something unspeakable under my breath. I had tried reading the first chapter of Travels with Trolls, but had soon thrown the book away with disgust. I looked at the paper.
1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
I looked up in disbelief. This was his idea of a quiz?! It was composed of fifty four questions, down three sides of paper. I smirked. My opinion of Lockhart was rapidly dropping, and it wasn't that high to begin with.
Under question one I drew a cat. Under number two, I wrote "To die a slow and painful death? Because that's what he must want, making a quiz like this." Under number three I wrote "WHAT achievements?" For the rest of the questions I wrote a long poem about how ridiculous people are who wear turquoise robes, and how I love to rip out people's throats with my teeth, and what sound it makes when you plunge a knife into one's chest.
The shink of the blade and the gush of the blood
I don't feel guilty, cleaning your veins of mud.
I finished with drawing an extremely unflattering drawing of Lockhart just as he cried "Time's up!" I couldn't get out of class fast enough. I was feeling thoroughly disgusted, a little pleased by my wittiness, and doubtful of my parent's decision to send me here. Our first potions lesson was next though, and I was thrilled.
We descended into the dungeons, shouldering our heavy potions equipment. Except me of course, as I had used magic to shrink them, so they fitted neatly into my shoulder bag. When Carter and I got to the dungeons, we were early, so we waited outside until Snape dismissed the class before us, which had run late. He looked surprised to see us.
"You're early." he drawled.
"No, we merely don't get lost. Getting lost is such a waste of time." said Carter in a mild tone, smiling pleasantly. He gave her a look I couldn't quite interpret. His eyes fell on me, widening slightly. I couldn't think what I had done to get that reaction. He stared at me for half a second before turning on his heel and marching back into his classroom. "You may both come in and prepare for the lesson, as long as you do not bother me." Carter and I exchanged looks before going in and silently taking out our Potions equipment as he wrote on the blackboard. The rest of the class filed in, including Slytherins, as we had double Potions with them. There was quite a lot of whispering as they spotted me. I responded with my best death glare. Professor Snape turned to face the class.
"I am Professor Snape. You will always address me as 'Professor' or 'sir'. I am the one who has, unfortunately, been assigned the tedious task of teaching you Potions. I expect many of you to fail. Not everyone possesses the ability to appreciate the silver shimmer of fumes, the beauty of a well-brewed potion, the humbling realization that you could be killed with a single drop of seemingly harmless liquid. Many of you will not consider this magic, as there is no foolish wand waving, or ridiculous incantations,"
I looked over to roll my eyes at Carter, only to realize that she was not there. Instead there was a scrawny hyperactive boy with a camera around his neck. I recognized him as Colin Creevey. I scanned the classroom to find her only to realize she was sitting next to Granger, who was chatting up a storm with the boys behind her and the clashing red and purple explosions in front of them. I slumped down in my seat seething. Stupid mudblood.
Carter Holmes's P.O.V
I quickly began to wish that I had stayed with Lena as a partner. The potion we were doing was ridiculously complicated and within the first twenty minutes I was frizzy haired and frazzled, my potion giving off large amounts of thick, sulfurous smoke. Much to my vexation, Lena was perfectly calm, even happy. And who wouldn't be, in her position? Her potion was textbook, perfect to the T. Snape, who had scathing things to say about everyone else's potions looked it over and I saw a faint smile on his lips which melted into a look of sadness and- could it be?- Longing. As much as this confused me I realized that I had tough competition on who would be top of our class, and so far I was losing. Snarling, I returned to my cauldron of failure.
All of the chemistry experiments I had done did not seem to help a bit. I supposed it was because this concoction was magic. Heaven forbid logic come into play! It would be absolutely horrible if I were to add an ingredient out of order, never mind the fact that I added the ingredient that should've come first directly afterward. I decided that I liked chemistry much better, where things are logical and rational. Professor Snape was not in the least sympathetic, and gave me detention. "This is a potions class, not a debate on magic vs. Muggles." I snuck a glance at Rebecca. Her face showed a clear Oh no he didn't. Indeed. Another biased teacher?! I had had enough of bias in primary school. I closed my eyes and flashed back. 'Yes. Your daughter is quite smart, ...for a female," I remember that day quite clearly in my mind. My father always thought I hadn't overheard, but that was illogical. Sitting outside my teacher's door, I could hear every word of that misogynist. I could also hear every word of my father yelling in response. It was very lucky that my mother had stopped father before he could do some very serious damage.
But I was SO DONE with biased teachers to me, be it 'She's smart for a girl' or 'Thank god she isn't a psychopath like her parents'. Yes, I am a GIRL. That shouldn't mean anything to you. I can do anything that a man could do, possibly because of the fact that I am female, I could do anything a man could do BETTER. Yes, my parents are not the best at being social, and my father does not like to show emotion at times. The thing is, my father is the person who has the most emotion out of everyone. He prefers to hide it, but if you look just close enough, just look him right in the eye, and you will see, he is emotionally damaged, not emotionally vacant. I finally thought, that here, at a new school, I would be able to have a fresh start. But apparently here, being of unmagical blood was the new version of "for a girl".
That was it. Carter Holmes had had ENOUGH. I carefully put on my normally reserved mask of emotion. A back up plan for the emotionally damaged: Be apathetic, condescending, and often cruel. It had worked dozens of times. A smirk that my father would have been proud of made it's way onto my face.
"Don't worry Professor...I wouldn't engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed person." I sneered.
I got a week of detentions. It was worth it.
Rebecca Granger's P.O.V
Hermione would kill me for shouting in class. But—"OH MY GOD CARTER THAT WAS SO BLOODY AWESOME!" I shrieked, attracting a disapproving glare from a nearby Slytherin. I stuck my tongue out at him before turning back to Carter. She raised an eyebrow at my shouting in class, but seemed pleased. "Did you see that Lena girl though?" I asked, feeling annoyed at her perfect performance that was usually reserved for Hermione. "Perfect. It makes me sick. She must be cheating, the prat. I really can't believe it. It's like she's following different directions! She's already Snape's favorite." Someone pushed past us, making Brook drop her books. " What was that for!" I said indignantly, turning to catch a glimpse of wavy red hair. Lena. Immediately, I felt guilty. Sure, she deserved it, but I was being childish and cruel. There was no reason for me to lower myself to her level, just because-well-I was jealous. Whoa. I think I just had a breakthrough. Maybe Lena really wasn't that bad, I thought optimistically. If only I had an idea of what was coming next, I would have hexed her into a jelly.
Carter, who I was beginning to regard as a bit of a genius, was trying to explain quantum physics and a show she watched called Doctor Who. Lena regarded the whole thing with bemusement, skeptical about the idea that Muggles could capture sound and moving images. Lena listened for a few minutes, but started laughing and making derogatory remarks over the show's representation of time travel.
"A blue box does not have the power to spirit oneself through time and space!" she argued. "How could Muggles possibly-" Brook cut her off.
"Lena, the rest of us are attempting to talk about a show, so if you would shut up!" I got the feeling we would probably regret being rude to her from the smile that came over her face as she walked away, but I pushed it out of my mind as I heard about how the Doctor brandished his sonic screwdriver at yet another enemy. We listened to Carter's droning for a while longer, but soon I felt my eyelids sagging. Not even the dramatic climax could ward off exhaustion. My head dropped onto Brook's shoulder. She was already asleep. Within seconds I was out like a light.
I woke up with a jolt of pain.
"OW!" I screamed, as my hair was pulled from behind. Everyone else was awake too. "Everyone stop moving!" Carter ordered with a yelp of pain. Everyone obeyed.
"What is it?" asked Ginny, wincing. Brook was trying to contain her laughter.
"Someone-" she gasped, tears of mirth rolling down her face, "Someone braided your hair together, and tied it to the wall." With much difficulty, we undid the tight braid, though we had to cut off a few inches at the bottom where it was anchored to the wall. Though Carter and Ginny also were braided, since my hair was longest I was the one whose hair was unceremoniously chopped off. We all had to skip breakfast because of the delay. Carter smiled half heartedly.
"If you want, Rebecca, I believe I can indeed dye the ends of your hair later, in order to make the cut a bit less noticeable." It was something that she indeed seemed sincere about. Huh, I thought. She really wants me to be her friend. Which of course she already is, but still. I guess my face started to be a bit pitying or sympathetic, because Carter's face immediately went back to its default expression of a mix of boredom and slight apathy. Only Brook had escaped the indignity, but Carter seemed unfazed at the fact that Lena- because that's who it had to be- had tied us all to the wall.
"It really was effective, if not particularly clever." remarked Ginny as we plotted our revenge. I smiled grimly. Lena was going to regret this, and I was going to enjoy it. The prank war was on.