by the amazing hayley jade @tda
The notion of unrequited love is a painful one, having such volatile emotions for one person is dangerous, but when they're not reciprocated, they can be deadly. Another common and painful problem is the 'denial dilemma’; this is where one of the pair fail to realize their emotions. A rare case of this is when both have the 'denial dilemma', which makes it the 'denial catastrophe', as the name suggests the results are somewhat explosive.
"So you've been avoiding them?" Arisa asks, raising an eyebrow. Just before I tell her to shut up, the thick noise of Madame Pince shushing us fills the library.
Thank you, I couldn't have done a better job myself.
"Not necessarily," I start and her sceptical expression makes me honest, "yeah, I have."
She shakes her head once again. Arisa isn't particularly encouraging as a friend, if you haven't noticed.
"What possessed you to believe that was good idea?"
She's insulting my intelligence, for the third time today. Oh yeah, I kept count. I'm not going to let this slide. Anyway, I'm not that thick, really. I got good owl results, I didn't fail anything. Which would clearly suggest I am not stupid.
"Well, it hasn't proved to be a bad plan, it's working well," I say in self-defence.
"For one, you're probably upsetting yourself, and you’re upsetting Louis and Aaron by not talking to them and you didn't make Louis apologize, so Aaron may think you've taken Louis’ side and vice-versa."
That's obviously not what's going to happen. My plan shall work; it's too simple to have any major flaws.
"That's not going to happen," I scoff, voicing my thoughts.
"If you say so," Arisa says in a sweet sing-song voice, channelling her old self.
Seizing the opportunity, I decide to figure out why she's become a sarcastic puttana. Her attitude is not acceptable, it's becoming unbearable.
"Arisa, what's wrong?" I ask, looking down at my arithmancy work. She knows what I am talking about.
"Nothing," she stutters.
"What's wrong?" I ask again adamantly, but in my best maternal loving voice, not that I hear my mother using one. If my mother even has one.
"I can't tell you," she says, whispering.
"Are you sure? You know if it's a big secret I can actually keep it."
I have the biggest mouth ever, but if there's ever a secret that's so serious I can't tell anyone, that secret will die with me. In fact, I might even forget it because I hid it in my brain. My brain is as messy as Louis room and that's saying something.
"It has nothing to do you, okay," she sneers.
Salope, okay then.
It's a sensitive topic, noted. She's snapped at me before, but not when I didn’t deserve it.
Luckily, because I am a lucky ducky, Lorcan Scamander walks up to our desk in the library, so that we (me and him) can walk to DADA. He's Louis' best male friend and a good friend of mine. The boy is simply a nice, down to earth person while Lysander (his twin) is sort of up above the clouds, like his mother apparently, who I still haven't met. But his dad is an absolute leg-end.
"I'll talk you later," I say softly to Arisa, hopefully cracking the hostility that hovers in the air and to make her feel bad.
She knows I'm a sensitive drama queen, if I wasn't being nice, I probably would've started crying for attention. Believe me, it's happened before. I'm not too proud of it though, acting like a big fat ugly brat is difficult and gives people the wrong impression of you.
I pack my stuff up and quickly leave with Lorcan, leaving Arisa alone in the library. We walk down the corridor idly chatting about holidays, Lorcan went to Albania with his parents and brother. How lovely it must be to have parents who take you places, together. Mais, Je m’en fou.
As we walk, I swear I can see bits of Aaron's hair sticking up over the crowd. I want to hide behind Lorcan, who laughs at my flailing as I hear Aaron's voice call out, "Sophie!"
"Hide me," I whisper to Lorcan, who then thinks it will be really funny to point me out.
"McLaggen, she's here," he says.
That's another boy I want to add on my to kill list:
Roger Davies, the second
"Let's talk," he says and Lorcan steps away exposing me.
Seeing that he isn't wanted here Lorcan waves, smiles and leaves.
If Arisa is right, I might just eat myself.
"Sophie," he says, commanding my eye contact.
Oh, here we go. This doesn't sound like it's going to go well.
"Have you been avoiding me?" he asks.
"No," I say and the taste of rotten sardines is thick in my throat from the blatant lie.
"I think you have," he says, his voice getting deeper. I look around and the corridor is slowly emptying itself. Ack, I'm going to be late for DADA.
"I've got to go," I say, not moving an inch.
"It's fine, I get it, you have a thing with Louis."
Err, no. Not really. Not at all. Abso-frickin'-lutley not.
He continues, "I think it's best if we broke up."
Oh, so we were technically a couple, you learn something new everyday. Bollocks, we were a couple. No longer. Past tense.
I keep my dignity and say, "yeah, we should."
He looks disheartened by my answer. If you didn't want it to happen, why did you suggest it? It's simple. Boys are so fickle. If you like a girl, ask her out. If you no longer like the girl, break up with her. This should all be in ‘Love for Dummies’, which I guess I have to write.
He turns around and walks away. Okay, I'm confused, so hackin' confused. As a result of all this, I decide to go to my room and mope by writing some morbid poetry. The fat lady sends me a dirty look, it's like she knows I’m supposed to be in a lesson. That portrait has too much sass.
I walk through the common room, where a couple of sixth years are sitting. I storm up the stairs to my dormitory and flop on the bed. As the bed shifts from my weight I notice a piece of parchment, I pick it up and begin to skim read.
Patch, you've been avoiding me. Not cool, mon amie, not cool at all. I thought all was forgiven when you bit my 'soapy' hand, and yes I do have bite marks. You would have seen them, if you'd been talking to me. Look at what you've missed by avoiding me, if it's about the punch, I don't regret it, you didn't want to kiss McLaggen, even if you deny it little Patch-ling. If it's about what happened at the gender-bender pyjama party, it was no big deal.
Anyway, that ramble took way to long. Get your sleeping bag, face masks and whatever you girls take to sleepovers, because we're doing number three on our list.
I groan, because once Louis has his mind set on something, it's going to happen. For example, when Louis decides he's going to play a killer game of Quidditch, he will score so many times it's unbelievable. When he challenges himself with something he has to prove to himself that he can do it, making a cyclic system of always trying to one up himself. It's so confusing, but it's something you get used to and you just sit on the carousel and play along by sitting on your horse.
This may be a step too far. I bet it’s horrible down there… in the chamber of secrets. It's probably not even safe to enter, there's a corpse of a basilisk down there. That is absolutely repugnant.
I remember the time Louis and I tried to hatch a basilisk, we stole Victoire's toad when we were eight and put it on an egg from the kitchen. It was Teddy's fault for trying to scare us by telling us what a basilisk was, then he told us how Herpo the Foul made one. Victoire yelled at us for toad theft. She was so angry; she cracked the egg by stomping on it. At least, that’s what I think happened or maybe I stepped on it.
All I really remember is crying and Louis consoling me, which I seem to have made a habit of. I roll in bed, thinking. Thinking about how this plan won't work, how Moaning Myrtle will tattle on us, how we'll die if we possibly get into the chamber of secrets.
This is too much.
But then I hear a voice in my head threatening me and calling me a chicken. Pfft. I'm not a chicken, I'll do it, I will. I'm not a Gryffindor for no reason.
After I mope in my room for a bit, lunch time arrives. On cue, hunger swells in my stomach like water in a kettle. It burns. I push myself out of bed and start my begrudgingly awful post break-up walk to the great hall. Just to let you know, I look awesome. My skirt is rolled up so high, it looks like a belt. I am not wearing make-up and I am walking like a model with swishing hips (a bit like a ho).
I make my way to the top of the Gryffindor table where all we cool seventh years sit, to see Louis and Lorcan, the blondies, sitting together.
I swagger my way up to them in all my sexy glory.
Well, as sexy as a girl called Velma can get. I mean middle names always seem to be an issue in the wizarding world. I bond with Albus Potter, because he dislikes his middle name Severus, not just because the person who had the name was fugly, but it sounded horrible.
Sev-eeer-us, three syllables of vom.
Velll-maa is two syllables of junk.
I pour myself some pumpkin juice and sit down.
"D'ya get my note?" Louis asks.
Lorcan looks at me, mouthing something like 'bear roof who?' Or 'where were you?’,I guess it's the latter.
I drag my hand across my lips in a zip motion. Louis catches me and raises an eyebrow.
"What's going on between you two?" he asks.
"Nothing," I say.
"Except, Finnigan here skipped DADA to hang out with McLaggen," he says suggestively.
Oh, Lorcan. Lorcan, Lorcan, simple misguided annoyingly stupid insane boy. Hmm, that was bit long.
"Did you?" Louis asks, leaning forward.
Sit back, salop.
Louis sits back, dejected by my tone. I am a scary lady.
"You did?" he asks.
"I did," I say, snatching a piece of bread from the table. Nom nom.
"What did you talk about?"
"Do you really want to know?" I ask, placing another piece of bread in my mouth and folding my arms across my (big-breasted, just joking) chest.
"No?" he asks, checking for the safest answer.
"Well, we broke up."
Lorcan stops eating and slowly puts his fork to the plate.
It's not that shocking.
Louis on the other hand, doesn't react. Heartless.
"Who broke up with who?" Lorcan asks.
I ponder on that for a second, "I guess it was mutual."
"Mutual, no break up is mutual," Louis scoffs, thanks for the sympathy, my dear ol' buddy.
"In fact it was," I retort, "he suggested it and I agreed."
"Well, that explains the short skirt," he says arrogantly.
Lorcan is silent. Smart move.
"I don't see why my skirt length is any of your business," I emphasise every syllable with half a mind to give him half a peace sign.
He goldfishes for a bit, I ignore him and return to my food. I've lost my appetite and as I'm about to stand up, Louis speaks to me, "you're still coming tonight?"
As I stand up, I turn and say, "you bet your sweet bippy, I am."
They look at me in confusion and I walk away, I’m not going to dwell on it.
Mental note: I should know the meaning, root and origin of idioms and phrases before I use them.
I go to Charms on time, take my seat and learn nothing throughout the whole lesson. The professor just prattles on about various charms and demonstrated them, but never gave us the chance. Magical theory is mind numbing without the practical. The best part of being a witch is swishing your wand, saying some nonsensical words and making things happen. I daydream for most of the time, imagining myself swashbuckling as a female pirate on a big red ship. It made no sense whatsoever, but it made the lesson zip past so I only caught the homework being set.
An essay. Here's a secret: I like writing essays, I like writing anything so long as my quill is on the parchment, I am happy.
With the ending of the charms lesson, I am free from the structure of education until tomorrow. Off to do homework, which I will enjoy as its two essays. The research I have to do for the essays I will hate and probably get Arisa to explain it to me.
I get to my dormitory, have an idle chat with my roommate Izzy Wright who is an absolute sweetheart about quidditch and how there is a practice on Sunday. I fumble through homework and textbooks and start everything but finish nothing. Eventually I give up and go sit in the common room to find Arisa reading a book.
Time to act like nothing happened in the library.
“Have you heard?” I ask, sitting next to her.
“That you broke and McLaggen broke up?” she asks and I nod. “Are you all right?”
I'm so relieved that she doesn't yell at me for not telling her or something petty like that and genuinely cares about how I am.
“I think so, I'm not sure, I guess I'm confused, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel,” I say.
“Your mind will straighten everything out, soon enough,” she says, placing a bookmark in her book and slides it next to her, giving me her full attention.
Things are looking good on the Arisa Loveday and Sophie Finnigan friendship front. Expect, there’s no sunshine. Weather metaphors, anyone? No. I’ll shut up then.
“I think we should get ready for tonight,” Arisa suggests in a soft tone.
She's back, time to party.
Packing to go to chamber of secrets is weird. I mean it's a place you hear Binns talk about lesson , in between waking up and falling asleep. You feel like it's not real, nobody touches that sink in the second floor bathroom, not that many people go there in the first place. Arisa and I do, Moaning Myrtle and Arisa are pretty much friends. She hates me though but Peeves loves me, so it's all cool. He calls me kooky.
It takes a while, I put things in a bag, Arisa checks them, rearranges them and replaces them. This is all while she's explaining to me the many issues of taking lots of NEWTs. Not to stereotype or anything, she's Chinese and you know what they say about Chinese people, they are smart and they make awesome food. Arisa's mother, Cho, makes the best food ever. Slap me if that was racist.
Thinking about food, I'm hungry. I eat a lot, I have a fast metabolism I think, but to be honest I'm too sure what that means.
The plan, according to Arisa is that we skip dinner and go to the bathroom while everyone's eating. By the time someone goes looking for us or thinks about how the four typical trouble makers are missing, we'll be in the chamber and untraceable. We set out for the bathroom, walking in the direction of the great hall like everyone else, then take a detour. I still get lost, I've given six and a bit years to this place and I can't go somewhere without getting confused or lost. That's why I walk with people to lessons, or I'll be ridiculously late.
We arrive at the lavatory. Isn't the word lavatory amazing? La-va-tre, not la-vo-to-ry, makes a weird flushing sensation in your mouth with spit, it's so fantastic. It's like an onomatopoeia.
The first sound I hear is a raucous splashing and Myrtle's wailing because there are boys in her toilets. Fair enough. It's like an invasion of her eternal afterlife.
Arisa immediately greets her and she stops wailing but her whiny complains continue.
"Myrtle," she says and Myrtle squeals like a pig in response. What happened to saying mmhhm or okay?
"You know your chunky big glasses are all the rage now," she says.
"Really?" Myrtle asks astonished.
"They are, aren't they Sophie?" She asks, glaring at me.
I look to Louis and Lorcan who shrug. Useful.
"My sunglasses cover more than half my face," I deadpan. Louis and Lorcan facepalm at my stupidity, but Myrtle takes it.
"Olive Hornby never understood fashion," she says.
"Look at her now, she's dead and nobody remembers her name," Arisa uses a perfect gossip tone.
"So what brings them to my toilet?" she spits, not that she can spit because she's dead. And the dead can't do things like spitting.
"We're camping out in the chamber of secrets," Arisa replies.
Myrtle swirls in the air, then floats in front of the blondies and says, "ooooh."
She pauses in thought.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," she suggests, "I mean take it from me, it's revolting down there."
"We're willing to take the risk," Louis says.
She hmmphs, that's not a verb but let's pretend it is. Myrtle flies to her stall and a then silence follows the violent splash.
Louis and Lorcan turn to Arisa, impressed. I am to, she deserves a medal this girl. A medal for dealing with the most annoying ghost on the planet. We all look to each other for a moment, waiting for the next stage of the plan. Fred (Louis) turns to Shaggy (Lorcan) and passes him a piece of paper.
"Eh, mate, what's this nonsense?" Lorcan asks after reading it.
"It's parseltongue," Louis says.
"And why do I need to read it?" Lorcan asks.
I step to the side, so I'm now by the dreaded tap. I run my hand over it and feel the engraved snake and shudder.
I'm so going to end up possessed or expelled. Tuning back into the blondies bickering I hear Louis say something about Lorcan being a pure blood.
"And why does that make a difference?" Lorcan asks.
"This is the chamber of secrets made by pureblood loon, Salazar Slytherin, it might have a blood purity detecting charm."
"Mate, that's absolute nonsense, there's no such thing," Lorcan retorts.
There's a lovers spat in the second floor girls bathroom.
Arisa clicks her feet to the ground, commanding their attention. They ignore her so she strides up to them snatches the piece of paper and slides to the sink.
"While watching you argue is amusing, we haven't got time to dilly-dally," she says, slicing through their bickering.
She places her hand on the snake and reads out the parseltongue in a sly and soft voice.
It sound like pure sibilance, something clunks and the ground shakes. Immediately, I shut my eyes and the noise continues for another moment, scrapes and scratches. It stops and silence falls on the bathroom, except for the noise of the dripping toilet, like water torture.
Somebody pokes me and I open my eyes. It’s Louis. I grab his arm and notice the gaping hole where the sink was. It’s a pipe, about the size for one person to drop down.
Arisa looks gob-smacked.
"So, who's first?" Lorcan asks.
Not me, not me.
"I'll go, since you're all afraid," Arisa challenges us and we all silently cower at her pure fearlessness.
She steps to the edge of the hole and jumps. Arisa doesn't scream or yelp, she simply yells back to us once she's landed how it's not far but the stench is revolting. Next, is me. I close my eyes and hop off the end.
The fall is quick and I land on rubble and what appear to be bones. I grimace at the broken white pieces which were once part of some creature’s skeleton.
Oh, this place smells. I stand up, pull myself to the side and adjust my backpack while Louis and Lorcan come down.
And there's a freaking echo.
It's so bloody cold.
We make our way through the chamber; our footsteps ricochet around and reverberate like a bell. We walk a bit through the stone corridors, shivering in silence. I walk next to Louis, our shoulders and arms side by side, rubbing together.
Then we see a large brass or golden sort of circular door, like a door to a top secret vault you see in those muggle spy movies. I love those movies.
"What the hell do we do now?" Arisa growls and the three of them start to bicker. I hold my wand against the door and begin to whisper a myriad of 's' sounds that sound like the phrase Arisa used on the tap.
The brass snakes that adorn the door-y/gate thing slither away as it opens.
This place takes creepy to a whole new level.
I step in first and the rest of them follow. Oh, yeah. I'd done it while they were arguing.
The chamber is lined with snake statues; I bet Salazar Slytherin worshipped snakes. What the heck is the point of lining your chamber with snake statues?
I take a deep breath from the anxiety and quickly slam my hand to my nose. The smell is vom, absolutely repulsive. As I look forward my eyes catch sight of the wonderful dead basilisk, lying in front of the statue of Creepy McSnakeworshiper's statue. It's bloody scary.
There's junk dripping from the ceiling and bones jutting out of the basilisk.
I look back to Louis, who then suggests that we should sleep in the spot I'm standing at so we’re not too close to the rotting corpse of the snake. I cough, splutter and gag. Then my teeth chatter, my body shivers and my fingers tremble. This is way out of my adventure capability levels.
“How about we stay up, I don't feel safe sleeping in this place?” Lorcan suggests.
Arisa and I agree and earn looks from Louis. Sit down, boy, it's cold. We huddle together, to preserve body warmth. I wriggle next to Louis, placing my head on his shoulder.
“I never asked you earlier,” he says, stopping as his teeth chatter, “are you all right about you and McLaggen?”
Phew, he still cares about my feelings.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Anyway, you don't need him.”
"Your my best friend and I love you and I don't want any creeps touching you, you’re my third sister,” he says, reassuringly , but I don't feel reassured. I yawn, my nose finally adjusting to the smell.
Just as I’m drifting off, the sound of Arisa’s voice bounces around saying, “liar.”
Merci beacoup, mon amie.
Then I hear another noise, the sound of slithering snakes and clacking shoes.
A/N: Beta'd by the lovely Jacinta Jade.
Merci beacoup, mon amie= thank you, my frriend
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