History of magic is the most boring subject in history. Never pretended to be in the slightest interested. I used to get good grades only because I studied from books which paradoxically it's more interesting than listening to Professor Binns. Lately my grades dropped. I can't be arsed about studying anymore. No bloody point. Mum was the only person who really cared about it. Now I spend my time more pleasantly with babes or friends or experimenting with potions. It's amazing what you can achieve mixing ingredients in the right way. For example, if you get some cheering potion and you pour inside the right amount of the sleeping one, just a drop of a few other ingredients, you can get as high as anything, you feel great and all mighty but at the same time maintaining control and perfectly cool. It's just proper lit! I made some spare and I take it when I feel particularly low, that is, very often. The trouble is, it seems to lose effect if you take too much of it and when it eventually fades you feel even worse than when you took it in the first place. I need to make some variation in the recipe as soon as I have the chance.
I anyway never miss History of magic. It's with Ravenclaw. And in Ravenclaw there is Ophelia. I get a full hour where I can fantasise about what my life would be with her in it.
All the time I had the chance to catch her chatting with friends she is always saying something witty or clever. One can easily see she is a cut above the rest.
It's years I'm getting every opportunity to talk to her, but she always looks at me up and down with contempt. It's the only girl in the whole school who won't fawn over me like a kitten and the only girl who I think I could seriously fall in love with. I've never been in love with any of the girls I hang out with, never I gave a kiss that was felt, that was more than a turn on. Patrick and Francis did. I envy them for it. They can attract a girl because of their personalities. I cannot. I'm doomed to be admired but never loved. And I cannot fall in love with a girl when the only reason she goes out with me is the lustre of popularity, when only futilities come out from her mouth.
Ophelia is different. She is above that rubbish; she doesn't see me as the son of somebody famous, she sees me as a person. She calls me by my name and not just "Potter" like all the other brats. She has something to say for herself and I'm sure she could like me if I'd manage to convince her that is worth to get to know me, the real me. I could drop my mask with her.
She is not what you would call a perfect beauty, like Mohini for example, but I find her charming, a person that make you want to look twice, she hasn't got the perfect body either, she is quite flat breast wise to be honest, no hips, no buttocks of any relevance but then I don't care.
She is sitting two rows in front of me taking notes. How can she survive the soporific effect of Professor Binns is beyond me. She pauses, scratches something on the parchment, and she sucks the end of her quill for a second listening to the utterly boring lesson. I feel my mouth going dry watching her sucking that quill and I have to concentrate my attention on something else for a few moments, not professor Binns though, or I may seriously risk falling in an irreversible coma. Francis, who tried unsuccessfully for the first quarter of an hour of engaging me in a game of battleship, is now staring emptily to the space in front of him, mouth half open, head rested on his hand propped up an elbow that threaten to slip any moment.
In a fit of mischievousness, I take my feathered quill and I tickle his ear. He jumps out of his skin making fall the ink bottle on the floor that smash with a sound crush. I have quickly to stifle a roar of laughter and almost choke myself.
The whole classroom turns to look, Ophelia included and seeing me as the origin of the prank, scowl disapprovingly and turn back the attention on the desk where Professor Binns halts for a moment his speech gazing blankly at us 'Podmore, Finnigan everything fine down there?' he says with his sepulchral monotone voice.
'Yes, professor, the bottle of ink just slipped. A bit too much enthusiasm in taking notes, I reckon…' I say cheekily while I repair the damage with my wand, and the whole class (minus Ophelia) sniggers. Francis is still trying to figure out what happened, blinking stupidly at the bottle of ink that is now full and whole on his desk.
The momentary merriment is very short, after the firsts two sentences uttered by professor Binns the class is again in its stupor, Francis included. Not me, and not Ophelia though. She takes her notes diligently and I think how nice it would be to take her at home to introduce her to mum and dad, that is before to remember that I cannot take her at home because of the Fidelius and that mum is not there anymore because of dad.
I have also got the feeling that she could see my dad as the normal, boring person he is and not worship him as a saint. That pleases me and I think it would please him too. He would like her, yes, I think he would. But then, on a second thought, I don't bloody care if he would like her or not because thanks to him mum will never have the chance to meet her!
While I'm lost in fantasies about me and her walking hand in hand in Hogsmead, snogging in the Hogwarts ground and sneaking at night-time into an empty classroom, the bell rings and everybody wakes up from the inducted sleep. Some stretch, some yawn, a few start to exchange a light sleepy chat. Ophelia shoves her notes in her bag while her friend is making some remarks looking at me. They rise quickly going to the door. I jump up too collecting my things in a hurry telling Francis and Patrick I'll catch up later, at which they start taking the piss immediately. They know very well where I'm going; they have been witnesses of my hopeless attempts on Ophelia from day one and they don't miss a chance to ridicule me for it, very pleased that there is at least one girl that I cannot have. What they don't get (and I'm not too eager to enlighten them either) is that is not the excitement of a difficult conquest that prod me, but something more.
I catch up with her who is already turning the corner, her friend eyeing me behind her shoulder.
'Hey Ophelia' I greet leaping in front of them barring their way.
''James', she says slightly annoyed without looking at me and trying to overtake. I don't allow her to.
'Can I talk to you for a sec?'
'I'll be late for my next class.'
'I know you have a free hour next' I say casually. I dated a Ravenclaw with the only purpose of finding out her schedule. She passes by right at that moment and seeing me talking to Ophelia sends her a disdainful look and an alluring one at me. I give her back a similar one. You never know…
Ophelia, spotting it, blushes angrily. She looks so pretty when she is in a rage.
'Why don't you follow her?' she snaps with a quite annoyed smirk 'She has got a free hour next, she may even let you inside her panties if you ask nicely enough'
'She already did plenty of times' I reply frankly, loving when she gets all jealous like this 'And without any particular effort from my part.'
Her friend giggles stupidly while she flushes even more 'Go then. Is it not your life purpose to get in as many panties as you possibly can?'
'Actually, it isn't' I say casually as she rolls her eyes with an emphasized scepticism 'I cannot pretend it's not fun, but you know what my life purpose is…' and I stare at her so explicitly she averts her gaze and her blush is so enhanced, she is basically glowing.
'What do you want to talk about anyway? Don't you have a class to attend to?' She snaps bringing back her eyes to me, sternly. She has got splendid hazelnut eyes.
'I do. But I'll ditch it, I want to talk to you first. About…' I look at her friend who seems glued to Ophelia with no intention whatsoever to leave me free field, staring in a way that makes me understand her life purpose quite clearly: letting me inside her panties.
'Do you mind?' I smile my most charming smile gesturing her to sod off.
She giggles even more stupidly 'Of course not, Potter' she chirps trotting away but keeping throwing glances behind her shoulder.
Ophelia sighs impatiently 'The answer is no, James'
'I didn't even ask anything yet!' I blort out.
'I know what you want to ask me, and the answer is no'
It's almost three years that I'm begging her for a date.
'The answer is "no" then?' I ask smirking at which she nods stern folding her arms on her breast.
'I was about to ask if you are completely certain you don't want to go out with me'
She gapes taken aback. She regains her composure quickly though 'In that case my answer is yes'
'Come on, Ophelia! Why not? I promise you I'll be a gentleman!' everybody passing by is staring including Francis and Patrick who hearing my words don't lose the chance to mimic a fuck behind her shoulders. I scowl at them so fiercely that Ophelia notices and turns just in time to spot them freezing in mid gesture. I give them a look that tells them without any possible misconception that they will pay this very dearly at the first chance I get. That subdue their mirth immediately and mumbling a greeting to Ophelia they turn the corner followed by my homicidal stare.
'So then why not?' I ask again retrieving my charming smile while I lean against the wall.
'I'm dating somebody'
I dart up immediately, gobsmacked 'What?! Who?'
'Davis Maguire'
'You gotta be kidding me! He's such a geek!'
'He is not!'
'He is. Come on! Such loser! He plays Gobstones!'
'So what?'
I arch an eyebrow meaningfully taking back my position against the wall. Gobstones really… I cannot believe she chose that dork when she could have had me. I feel pretty offended.
She falters, even she cannot deny that whoever plays Gobstones is king of Loserland.
'Well, he has got many qualities…'
'Like?' I spat with a grunt.
'He is smart'
'I'm smart too'
'Doesn't look like it'
'You can take a look at my grades if you don't believe me, they are…' I stop a moment reflecting that recently they haven't been that cracking after all 'They were…' I gabble 'before…' and then I gulp unsure how to crack on. I see her falter uneasy; she understood what I was about to say, everybody knows what happened of course, for weeks people didn't talk about anything else. They didn't even bother to lower their voices when me and Albus were passing by, as if it is not our mum who has been tortured and killed by a maniac, as if only because it's printed on a newspaper doesn't affect us, as if it is not our family and we could be pained by their canvassing it with so little sensitivity. At the end it's only a juicy gossip, innit? And let's not even start with impertinent questions or morbid curiosity. Albus was distraught, avoiding everybody, even Rose. He refused to have anything to do with me until I swore solemnly, I'm not going to change my name and move to Rumania. I've been forced to swear. I hate him not talking to me. That doesn't mean I'll return living with dad. I'm almost of age anyway, I'll be able to choose. Anyway, since I'm back in this bloody school I'm in a permanent long detention for all the scrapes I'm getting into to shut people's mouths and is common knowledge I failed every test submitted to me since. I don't want to see pity in Ophelia's eyes though because I know it's not a gossip for her, she sees it for what it is, so I regain my wits quickly.
'I'll bring them to what they were if you agree to go out with me. Chuck the loser and go out with me'
'He is serious as well'
'I can be serious too'
She raises her eyebrows sceptically 'Really? I don't know why but I've got the feeling he wouldn't be caught getting out of a broom cupboard, just like…' she pretends to look to an invisible watch on her wrist 'let's see, one hour and a half ago happened to you with that daft cow of Mohini'
I recoil in horror 'How do you know?'
'Therese was passing by'
I roll my eyes, even walls have eyes in this damn place 'For god's sake that means nothing!'
'To you or to her?'
'Both'
She looks at me severely 'Maybe not by her side. Have you ever stopped to consider it?'
I explode in a bitter laugh 'Oh please, don't make me laugh! Mohini? She doesn't give a damn about me. She just wants to be seen with me. It's different'
'Well, you cannot give that for granted.'
'Come on! Mohini? Have you ever talked to her?'
'Me, never. What about you?' she says accusingly.
I shrug 'As a matter of fact I did, or at least I tried but it doesn't seem to be much in her head beside clothes, gossips and a hell lot of me, me, me, and then me again'
'So then why do you hang out with her?'
Here I take a moment for reflection. I have got the slightest suspicion that my motives wouldn't make me honour, perhaps Ophelia wouldn't think they are good enough motives after all.
I must have them written on my face however, because she blushes scarlet and scowls worse than ever.
'How can you expect me to go out with you when you are seen with a different girl every other week?!'
'I promise you that if you accept to go out with me I won't as much as look at the others anymore. There will be only you' I say keen trying to caress her, but she stands back with a scowl avoiding my hand.
'Why do you want to go out with me so much?' she gushes.
I'm taken aback and thinking about the honest answer I feel suddenly shy which is not usual with me. 'Because…' I start uncertain, a flush creeping on my neck. The corridor is empty now, everybody is in class, I feel my mouth going dry, and I gulp. Because you make me feel as nobody ever made me feel before. Because I have this urge to kiss you every time I happen to look at your lips. Because I'm James for you and not "Potter" and you could like me for it. Because when I seldomly manage to sleep properly is only because I fall asleep thinking about you. Because I think I love you already despite I never heard a kind word escaping your mouth directed to me.
But obviously I cannot say any of those sentences, for god's sake! I cannot expose myself so foolishly! She is just gonna despise me for it, make fun of me!
'Because you are smart and…' I gabble sheepishly but she interrupts me sharply seeing my hesitation.
'I tell you why. I'm the only girl in school that see you for what you are and has not any intention whatsoever to become your umpteen pray and the only reason you want to go out with me is to tickle your overinflated ego with the notion that you can get any girl you want. And then when you will finally, slyly, make me fall for you, you'll dump me as you do with all the others, and you will be able to laugh with your dumbs friends at how silly I have been. I won't be made laughingstock in front of the whole school.'
Her face is purple, upset. I frown bewildered at her words. Is this what she thinks? She has me totally misunderstood.
'No Ophelia, you are wrong…' I say reaching out for her arm, trying to explain myself but she shrugs me away contemptuously.
'No, I'm not. I'm not stupid you know?! I see how you behave with your friends bragging about who shagged most, hooking up with girls as if they are only objects to be used at your will'
I try to silence her again to defend myself, it's actually them who use me to aggrandise themselves for god's sake! But she doesn't allow me to retort.
'You think yourself so important just because you are Harry Potter's son, but you are only an overbearing moron, full of yourself with a total disregard of other people feelings. You are totally uncapable to feel anything for any human being. How could you expect me to believe you could feel for me?'
I flinch at the unfairness of what she had just said. Me uncapable to feel anything for any human being?! I think about how I tortured myself since Lily death for my argument on Christmas day when I pushed so much to go to Shell Cottage. How many times I wished I could turn back the clock and listen to my dad quietly and submissively when he told us we wouldn't have gone instead of arguing. How I loved my little sister and how I reproached myself bitterly every single day since. And I think about my mum, and how much I would have wished to have had the chance to protect her from that mad man. How I miss her, how much I loved her. I think about the teddy bear for Sunrise in my trunk. All the sleepless nights in terror that some other deranged individuals could go and try to kill her too, just because she is a Potter, like me and Albus. I think about all the times I beat the crap out of Slytherins because they were pestering Albus or about Rose, how many detentions I got to protect her from bullying.
How can she judge me that way? How can she think that I cannot feel? How can she think me overbearing and full of myself?
I never even got the chance to be any different in anybody's eyes. I am what I'm forced to be by everybody expectations. This is just an image of me in which everybody wants to believe in.
Disappointment and bitter tears make way to my eyes, but I don't want to cry in front of her, nor in front of anybody, so I use anger to subdue what it needs to be subdued, I take a big breath to calm myself.
I can see her panting slightly, agitated by her own speech, spite on her face and I understand, in a disheartening revelatory moment, that I've been wrong all along in her regards. Three years wasted. Three years in building up something that has never been there. I too have created in my mind a person that doesn't exist, somebody I hoped with all my might could save me from my solitude, from my anguish. She doesn't exist. She is not in Ophelia not anywhere.
'You know what?' Is say after I managed to pull myself together 'I thought you were different. I thought you could actually see what other people couldn't and for a moment, and it was stupid of me I grant you, but for a moment I hoped you were clever enough to understand what lays behind. But now I know I made a mistake' I say gutted while she widens her eyes at my words 'You are just like everybody else. You just see what you want to see' My voice is low and full of resentment 'Don't worry dear Ophelia' I continue with a bitter smile 'from now on I won't bother you anymore'
And with these words I leave her there. The spite, in waves, growing in intensity, rise in me, making difficult to not let it overflow. I hear behind me Ophelia calling my name, but I won't stop. I kick furiously an armour on my way to vent out my frustration. it shatters on the floor with a noisy clutter, all the other armours start to complain loudly causing a mayhem in the corridor, but I don't care, I feel angry tears swelling up again and I'm not sure I'll be able to control them. I'm walking briskly toward the ground. I need some open air. And then I'll look for Mohini and I'll fuck her alright because it's the only thing I can get from them.
There is really no hope for me. This is my mask I must learn to keep it on.