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Chapter 6 : Regrettable Actions (AKA The Result of My Temper)
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I came around to find, once again, a small horde of first years trying to wake me up so I could go to the hospital wing.
Typical – I only just got out of there. Now they were trying to take me back?! NO WAY. Seriously.
I sat up and told the first years to bugger off. In nicer words, of course, but that was their underlying meaning. Only Alex was allowed to stay, because she is a nice, space-giving, already-known first-year who is under my protection and not taking photos like one stupid girl! I mean, I didn’t even do anything. That is seriously sad – she needs to get a life.
I looked around our room when they were gone. All the hangings were drawn, fortunately, as I couldn’t take another memory onslaught. Already, I could feel a bruise on my cheek from where I had fallen.
What I could already see was quite enough, and I didn’t WANT to see each of our separate beds.
Needless to say, it was fantastically messy, Harriet’s the least. Most of the mess was schoolbooks in piles around her bed, so I knew it was hers. It was in the only right-angled corner, and slightly darker, with extra shelves, there.
Edie had an explosion of EVERYTHING around her bed. Nothing was NOT in the high dumps around her bed, and in that section, almost no floor could be seen. Hers was on the opposite side of the door to Harriet’s.
Isabella had lots of make-up, clothes and magazines, among more serious books and sweets. Hers looked the more light-hearted part of the room, and was next to the bathroom. Her wardrobe seemed to be the larger, expanded size like Edie’s: however, I suspected that Edie’s was from the clothes being in piles and taking up much more space than they should have.
Lastly, I turned to my part of the room. I was the only person with a window both sides of their bed, and it was in between Harriet and Isabella’s. However, it was such a strange mess I had around it. Many ninja and Sexy Team posters and memorabilia were strewn around, amongst essays and notes, lipgloss, and very large assortments of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. It was very me (as far as I knew, and had to feel it. But I did. Feel that it was me-ish, I mean).
ANYHOO, I was mostly confused by the large piles of suitcases strewn around. Only the purple colour, with a large orange ‘W’ on them lead me to believe that Dad had sent them with my family and I, to install the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Hogwarts System. That was, presumably, what the postal order boxes were for – for me to collect them and give the products to the buyers.
That would sure explain all the lilac and orange sheets everywhere. I wondered if they had other boxes, for other houses, because we wouldn’t want to miss out on business, right? But Gryffindors should get priority. Why? Because we’re the best house! Duh!
I still remember my Sorting. I was near the very end, because of being a Weasley, so I got to watch everyone go up before me. I had sat with my cousins on the way, so I didn’t really know anyone; one disadvantage of having a large extended family is that you aren’t forced to do stuff for yourself.
Not that that’s a bad thing most of time. But sitting down on the stool, in the heavy warmth of the sorting hat and looking out at the sea of interested faces (which I now realise most of which were actually bored), I really wished I had more than just Fred, Molly, Dom, James (who were quite the foursome even then despite, being separated by three houses), Fleur and Teddy. I wanted to be in Gryffindor, like Fred and Dad and Mum so badly… to not disappoint them, and to go where I felt I fitted in.
I told the sorting hat this, and he certainly considered it. “Hmm… not Slytherin, not ambitious enough” (which is why Al and Scorp are there), “not Ravenclaw, not quite quick enough, although certainly inventive… Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, now? Well, I have to say you’d do well in both. But I think you’ll have plenty of courage when needed, and your heart already lies with GRYFFINDOR!”, he roared at the end.
I was so pleased then… he was right, it was where my heart lay.
“Em… Roxanne?” a voice piped up, pulling me out of my memories. Alex. Dorm. Right.
“Eh… do you know why there is a pine cone repeatedly hitting the window?” Alex asked curiously. I had to admit that I didn’t but it was starting to get on my nerves.
Then another one joined it, but it was bright pink instead. Together, they made the most annoying tapping noises ever.
Then another pink one joined it, and a black. Then a normal brown one.
Tapping noises like that get on my nerves so much. Just there, tippity-tappity, all ANNOYING and ‘Hi, I’m not gonna let you concentrate, coz I’m just gonna sit here and TAP on your TAPPING nerves!!’.
My eyes narrowed and fists clenched as yet another purple one joined it. All six were bouncing off the window now. I strode to it in three large strides, and wrenched open the latch at the top flap, sending the pine cones scattering backwards.
“Will you just STOP IT ALREADY!!” I shouted down to the annoying boys below. They just laughed as I wrenched it shut with a slam. “God, I REALLY hope for their sakes that they stop n - ”
Tap-tap-tap on the newly-shut window. All six were back this time. Then, a new, further-away tapping sounded from the other side of my bed. Walking over, there were three pine cones bouncing off it already.
I shoved that, slightly larger, window open too, and, pointing my wand out, sent some hexes who-knows-where, aiming for the ground without looking. Judging by their laughs, though, it didn’t seem to have hit anywhere near them. I retrieved my arm, and whipped my head round to a worried-looking Alex.
“Please, they’re just trying to wind you up! Just leave it. Please!” Alex pleaded. I tried to relax, and opened my mouth, when suddenly, a storm of the bloody things came up and hit the window, blocking out most of the light.
I hate magic sometimes.
Trying to control myself, I steadily headed towards the door, trying to go back down to the common room like Alex wanted me to.
It was then that a positive crateful of pine cones hit the other window, and a load poured in to the bathroom too. That was it.
I whipped around and sprinted for the window, heading straight into it shoulder-on, screaming bloody murder at them as the glass shattered all around me and I headed out…and down.
Normal people would have been scared as they headed downwards from the third-top floor of the second-highest tower in school, a good fifty feet down. Maybe more. But all I felt was such anger at these absolute pricks that time seemed to slow down as I headed for the grass.
Afterwards, nobody knew how I did it, least of all me. All I knew was people’s shocked faces as the newly-emerged crowd form the quidditch match saw me fall, and the scared-as-hell faces of the pranksters. I just knew rage. But somehow, I managed to land on arms and knees, and roll James-Bond style, across the grass for a good ten feet, and come to a stop in a feral position on the ground, hissing at the stupid idiots.
In fact, I was still so hyped-up and out of it, that I went straight for the nearest guy’s throat, slashing his legs out from underneath me with just my limbs, then punching him in the face so hard his nose cracked under me. I had raised my fist again when I heard running feet and two people dragging me off the idiot by my armpits.
I twisted round and out by flipping myself forward, and had lunged at the nearer of the two, pinning him to the ground, when he cried “Annie! Stop!”.
I knew something was wrong then, but would have had a hard time controlling myself if I had not heard Dan’s voice in my ear just then, saying “Stop it. He’s your cousin. Relax!”
It wouldn’t have worked if he had not been the first unassuming person I had met, and the only new voice that morning.
Something had been started in me that knew all the voices of people before the bludger incident.
I slowed down and peered at his face. I knew him somehow… my cousin?
Potter. James Potter, cousin to me, only a year older. I had tried to attack my cousin! WHAT?! I backed up, leaning backwards and covering my mouth with my hand, eyes as wide as satellite dishes as I awkwardly tried to get off and un-straddle my cousin’s quidditch-robe-covered stomach. What had I done?
I stood up, still shocked, as I looked at the next guy over. He was groaning, face in his hands, and the other two were gathered around him, trying to get him to speak.
This was my fault… why had I done this? Oh God. How unstable was I, that I would do this?
“Oh… my… SHIT… I’m so, so s-s-sorry… d-didn’t m-mean t-t-to… w-w-w… oh… oh-oh-oh…sh-sh-sh-shhh…” I started hyperventilating and was swaying dangerously. I was so out of my depth and, what had I done? What, oh my God… I mean….
Quickly, Dan took hold of my shaking form and sat me down on the ground, head in hands. I felt like I was going to be sick. I had just severely injured two people, and it would have been more, of not for Dan. Why was I so uncontrollable?! Oh my life, this was… frick... frick…
Dan took my head out of my hands, and made e look at him. I had lost the ability to hear right now, but he made me look into his eyes and stay like that. I slowly stopped shaking, and my breathing had managed to return to almost normal by the time that I could get out, “How did you know to do that?”
Dan looked down then up again. “Mum’s a healer at St. Mungo’s. She taught me what to do”. He frowned, focused slightly to the left of my eyes, and then picked up my hands and looked down at them. I did too, and saw cuts along them, from the glass as I smashed the window. I supposed that was what had happened to my face too, but the rest of me had been protected buy my jeans, shoes and leather jacket.
Silently, Dan took his wand and summoned all the remaining glass out of my wounds, which really stung but was ok after a bit. He then quickly did some spell to make them scab over, but said “you’ll have scars for a long time, but not as bad as they are now, ok?” I just nodded.
He tried to get me to stand up, but ended up sliging my arm around his shoulders, supporting me around my waist and half-carrying me back up to where I had acted so rashly.
Seeing the broken-nosed guy again made my tongue all twist up, so Dan announced, “Roxanne says that she… didn’t mean to. It wasn’t a… rational decision…she’s really sorry. But you guys shouldn’t prank her again, or this is what you’ll get!” I gave him a shaky smile. I couldn’t have said it myself better.
I turned with Dan’s help, and backed up to the castle to leave the crowd where it was, with Lysander Scamander using Episkey on the guy’s nose.
Half an hour later, I was sitting and talking small talk to Dan. He was kind of stiff at first, but had warmed up by the time James Potter made it up to us on the squishy sofa by the fire. His appearance made me clench up again, until he just sat and laughed. Obviously the events weren’t that meaningful or awful to him.
I felt like crying and laughing and screaming at him, but apart from the fact that a steady stream of people had been coming and going for the past few minutes, now that the match had finished, I really didn’t want to change his mood into a more deserved and angry one.
Damn teenage hormones. I just wanted to make up, but NO, I had to feel a hundred other things as well.
When James had stopped laughing, and was smiling broadly instead, he said “that was quite some trick you pulled there, Head Ninja. Almost as good as the Quidditch-in-the-mud incident. Although I’m still mad at you for losing our best beater for the rest of the matches, apart from the last one. Including the rematch of the original. Still, at least Dominique won’t be in that one either. She was a good beater too… although you had an edge on her” he winked.
“Wait… what? So… I’ve been banned from quidditch, yeah? But I was allowed to play in the last one because…?” James shrugged. “And that would be the one where someone sent two bludgers at my head so that I couldn’t hit them both.” I sighed, and leaned back into the cushions.
“Personally, I’d not be sure which side to take if I were James. I mean, your best friend and team you support, or beater on your quidditch team?” Dan dropped in crossly. He seemed to have a grudge against James.
“Wait… what? I knew you guys were a foursome, before things fell apart… but you actually set foot in this common room and support Dom?!” I injected, sitting up and leaning forward to glare at him.
James backed up somehow (harder than you’d think, whilst on a sofa) and put his hands in the air. “I don’t actually support them! I just sell the Stompin’ Team stuff, because we need someone to, right? And I have the best reasons to, so… anyway, I’m actually a Gryffindor Ninja supporter all the way through, but I have to wear blue to promote Potter Enterprises! Anyway, Dan’s no one to talk… Basilisk supporter!”
Dan glared at James. “Hey, I didn’t know Roxanne then!”
“And you do now?”
“More than before! And - ”
“WHAT” I cut in, “is this about a bloody Basilisk?” I glared at them both, to try to get an answer, but they both looked away.
It looked like some things I would have to find out for myself.
To ease the tension, I picked a random, unused Snitch Bomb off the floor, pulled the pin, and lobbed it at James’ head at just the right time, so that it created its snitch-size explosion right next to his face.
Surprisingly, it worked, and we three laughed hard. Thank heavens, once again, for Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.
Roxanne’s Memory Book
I think today’s events kind of set off a couple of things in my head… no proper memories or connections but I got three flashes.
First, the tapping brought me back to a time in St. Mungo’s, where a patient wouldn’t stop tapping a little rhythm on the table. It was a sad time, I think, and I felt locked away, and the pine cones brought me back to it, especially as it was a non-funny joke.
The second was that flash of anger and falling, which kind of ties in with the fighting that came from it: the third one. Each time, I got a flash of the same quidditch match with Dom and my fighting. The hurling-out-the-tower gave me a flash of something that was like me launching myself across to Dom on her broom and pulling us both down to the muddy earth. Then, when punching Paul (as I found out that was his name), I had a flashback of punching Dom in the mud. It went kind of like that meditation-induced memory.
Note to self: Revisit memories collected, somehow. Without pensieve, I don’t know how.
*A/N: So, thanks for reading this chapter! Slightly suspicious, yeah? Hm… we’ll meet Dom soon, plus see what the whole family thing is about. Well, not really including Fred’s problem, so there are two… but you’ll find out soon!
Just because I keep forgetting to say, all recognisable things are the wonderful JKRs, except unknown characters which I made, and the plot belongs to me, etc. Oh, except for Madame Beauvoir who is the lovely Miss Marla G’s creation!
Thanks for reading so far!! :D I love you all!
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