Friday, 1 September 1922
After the Opening Feast
Hufflepuff Common Room
Yeah, Alice heard about Dragon’s appearance at the Gryffindor table. She’d heard the beginning of the insane rumors – all false, of course – but didn’t bother dispelling them. Matilda could handle her own. Honestly, her cousin was driving her nuts; and Alice understood completely – nobody wanted their grandmother to have actually made a good decision about this. But the redhead was smitten by the tall Russian, and Alice was… over it.
Besides, little Maevie was her new target. Everleigh was gone, and Tilly had her own things going on, but the third year was… well, she was vulnerable and alone. At least, that’s how Alice saw her. And that worry only got worse at the Opening Feast when Ruth had told the girl to go to Benji for help.
That boy was nothing but trouble. He was the last person Alice would ever put in an authority position. Yes, she was jealous of not making Prefect. But she also wasn’t very surprised. Everleigh had kind of ruined that. And her parents.
Wait – what? She couldn’t be mad at her sister. Her sister was the victim.
As soon as they entered the Common Room, Alice took Maevie gently by the arm. “I’m serious. I’m here, okay? Don’t go to him… he’s not a good influence,” she said, not even using names but knowing the girl would know who the ‘he’ was in this instance.
Holding the girl’s arm gently caused her long sleeve to ride up and expose the bracelet. She bit her lip and looked at the girl momentarily. “This looks familiar,” she commented softly, narrowing her eyes slightly as she looked at the beads. Not identical, but similar.
“Come on, let’s get some sweets and sit by the fire before bed,” she said and led the girl to the table on the side of the room. On Opening Feast nights, the Head of House always set out an assortment of candies and refreshments to pick at to celebrate the return to the castle. Especially tonight, when it was a Friday night. They had the whole weekend before class began on Monday.
Alice took some chocolates in her hand and then sat on a couch, pulling one of the soft knitted blankets over her legs. It was still summer, but the common room was underground, so she usually felt a bit cold down there.
“How are you? Really?” she asked, ready to read what the girl told her and get a gauge on how she was feeling.
powerplay approved by Maevie’s writer <3
Filled to the brim with dinner and dessert, Maevie followed the chattering pack of Hufflepuffs towards the common room. Her mood had lightened throughout the feast — a little. Elevated by stories of her housemates’ summers, something to concentrate on instead of her own glumness. It still lingered though, somewhere just beneath the surface, but it had moved farther to the back of her mind, allowing for a few beams of sunshine to break through her smile.
When a hand took her by the arm however, and Maevie looked around, her new-found smile faltered under a jolt of nerves.
“I’m serious. I’m here, okay? Don’t go to him… he’s not a good influence.”
Her mouth opened and closed, gaze wide as it stared at Alice.
She knew she meant Benji. His suggestion to cause some ruckus hadn’t gone over well with her, drawing an immediate reprimand. Maevie had filed it under an older, more responsible student’s and former prefect’s intervention, nothing personal. After all, she was aware that whatever Benji had had in mind likely wasn’t something anyone should be doing during the opening feast. To be told to stay away from him though, that he was a bad influence, came as a surprise.
Benji was her friend. She had never considered him as anything else.
Before she could voice her confusion however, Alice’s gaze found back to her bracelet. “This looks familiar.” Maevie froze. For one short moment she wanted to rip her arm away and run.
During dinner Alice hadn’t said anything beyond it being pretty. Had she just not wanted to make a scene? Did she know after all? Was she about to give her a piece of her mind now instead? Could this get her expelled?!
Cold fear gripped her by the throat and without any other choice, Maevie followed Alice’s pull towards the fire. She sat on the couch across, putting her hands in her lap, twiddling with the seam of her robes.
She wasn’t feeling like chocolate.
“How are you? Really?”
She couldn't look away from Alice. “I’m okay,” she shrugged, smiling faintly. “Just a bit tired.” It wasn’t a lie. After her visit to Ever the nightmares and terrors had returned with a vengeance. Worse than before and leaden with guilt and shame that tore through her core — at night, and during every waking moment since. But she couldn't say that, to no one and especially not to Alice. So she didn't.
Maevie was a bundle of nerves. Alice was trying to untangle what she was picking up from the girl, but her emotions were so foreign to her. Give her Everleigh’s mess any day and she could figure it out no problem. This redheaded girl was practically a stranger to her.
“I’m okay. Just a bit tired.”
Brown eyes watched the girl, observing her quietly as she nodded slowly. Maevie was covering something up. Sure, Alice believed she was tired. Perhaps that the girl was really just ‘okay’. Afterall, that’s what she’d been telling herself since everything with Everleigh began.
Something bigger was underneath the girl that she was holding back. Alice knew this, but also didn’t know her well enough to push. Her eyes moved over to the fire as she popped another piece of candy in her mouth.
“Tired makes sense. Coming back is a lot. Especially when…” Alice let her voice trail off a bit, sighing. They both cared about Everleigh. They both wanted her back. Neither of them would have her back. Not now. Maybe not ever. Maybe her sister was gone forever.
A pain shot through her chest briefly at the thought. She pushed it away.
“I meant what I said, Maevie. I’m here for you if you need someone,” she said, hoping she wasn’t being too pushy.
It was possible, however, that Alice needed Maevie just as badly as Maevie needed her.
Perhaps even more.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” she added, smiling slightly, though it was empty. Hollow. That was what was becoming of herself.
“Tired makes sense. Coming back is a lot. Especially when…”
At last her gaze dropped away, trailing the trace of her own fingers.
Alice didn’t need to name the unspoken ghost that somehow lingered right amidst where they sat. It had been sitting with them at the Hufflepuff table too. A reminder of what had been and what was now, and of all the things that had happened in between.
Another wave of shame rushed through her and Maevie swallowed against it.
“I meant what I said, Maevie. I’m here for you if you need someone.”
Her gaze lifted again, the weight balled up in her chest even heavier than before, but she gave a little nod anyway.
She felt like the most terrible person in the world. The secret of Ever’s meltdown dragged through her blood like mud, the bracelet around her wrist comfort and punishment alike. Maybe Alice did know but simply chose not to say anything. Or maybe things afterwards hadn’t been as bad as she’d thought. She had never asked.
Either way, Alice’s care felt undeserved, misplaced.
Maevie had done a horrible thing, out of selfish reasons, without thinking. The sister whose life she had made worse should resent her instead of offering comfort.
“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
But pushing the older girl away felt wrong too.
Maevie pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging her arms around as a moment of tense silence passed. She wasn’t sure what to say. ‘Thank you’ felt too pretentious, and ‘no, thank you’ felt like a swing with a sword.
In the end the need to know pushed too hard and she finally asked the one thing that had haunted her days, voice quiet and laced with apprehension, almost fearful. “How— how is she?”
Alice was still watching the fire, turning a piece of chocolate over in her fingers, when Maevie finally spoke.
“How— how is she?”
She looked at the girl then, her attention finally locking on her. There was something in the way that she’d asked it, quietly and careful. As if the answer could break something.
“She smiled at me,” Alice said. The memory of it still sat warm somewhere underneath the hurt. “I can’t remember what I’d said, but she did. She actually smiled.”
Finally, she popped the chocolate in her mouth and pulled the blanket a little tighter around her. She was silent a moment longer.
“And she’s drawing again. Her journal – sometime during summer, she stopped. But she’s putting words with the drawings now too.”
Small steps. Alice had to remind herself that while they were tiny improvements, almost unmeasurable, they were better than nothing. She’d learned this summer to treat small steps like they were enormous, because sometimes they were all you had.
But it was the small things, like the brief smiles, that kept her hoping that she’d return. Eventually.
Alice glanced back at Maevie, feeling the weight of whatever the girl was carrying. It matched her own.
“It’s slow,” she added honestly. “But she’s still in there.”
“She smiled at me. I can’t remember what I’d said, but she did. She actually smiled.”
Something warm flared inside her chest, heart stopping for a moment. She had been so scared to ask, fearing the worst. That Ever was even less present than before, that her meltdown had shattered another piece of her mind and any last bit of hope had been destroyed.
That she had broken her friend completely.
But Ever had smiled. She hadn’t even smiled the few months of term before she had had to leave, flashes of recognition but no more.
Maevie didn’t dare breathe.
“And she’s drawing again. Her journal – sometime during summer, she stopped. But she’s putting words with the drawings now too.”
A tiny flicker of hope widened her eyes, attention hooked to Alice’s every word. As though she was telling the most exciting story she’d ever heard and maybe she was. Weeks of shame and guilt and sleepless nights filled with worry evaporated within a minute.
“It’s slow. But she’s still in there.”
Maevie nodded, allowing herself a small smile and a bit of excitement. “But maybe she’ll be okay again soon!”, she said with careful optimism, the grip around her legs loosening. “Or…at some point.”
Slow could mean months, and it could mean years.
Maevie shoved against that thought. It wouldn’t be years. It couldn’t.
“At least my bracelet didn’t make her worse.” The breathy laugh got stuck in her throat halfway through, hand clapping over her mouth. She hadn’t wanted to say that out loud.
Fear rolled back in, heart thumping like a drum as her eyes stared at Alice in horror. "I mean— I didn't— It wasn't on purpose, I just thought—" Her entire body went rigid, paralyzed. "I just wanted to bring her a gift."
Hope was washing over the younger girl and Alice couldn’t help but to smile in relief. All emotions from other people were a lot to take in, but especially sadness. Sadness involving her sister was even worse. And while she didn’t know her sister’s friend very well, she knew that Maevie was generally a happy girl.
“But maybe she’ll be okay again soon! Or…at some point.”
The girl was trying to restrain her excitement over the update. Alice understood and couldn’t blame her. It was hard to be optimistic with the situation, when truthfully she had no idea if her sister would ever return to her as she was.
“At least my bracelet didn’t make her worse.”
Alice nodded slightly. She’d known about the bracelet without officially knowing. The healers had suspected, but no one could say for sure. Everleigh certainly wasn’t speaking about it. She watched the girl crumble. She covered her mouth and fear welled up inside of her.
"I mean— I didn't— It wasn't on purpose, I just thought— I just wanted to bring her a gift."
Alice frowned. What was she supposed to do with the confession? On one hand she didn’t want Maevie to feel bad. On another hand, the protector in her, wanted to lash out on the young girl. It left her in a weird purgatory of sorts where she felt too many things at once, which made her want to shut down instead of react altogether.
“I know. No one could have known how she’d react,” Alice heard herself say. But she recalled that day the healers told her she’d had an increased negative reaction to everything.
“The important thing is that she’s okay now. And if you want to get her a gift, she loves journals and quills,” she advised easily, brushing her frustration under the rug to deal with later. When Maevie wasn’t around. So she wouldn’t feel worse than she already did.
Maevie curled in on herself, inwardly cringing with guilt and embarrassment, feeling exposed and naked. Her arms pulled her legs further in, gaze lowering to her knees. Alice’s words sounded reassuring but they didn’t feel it.
She knew Alice hated her, she had to. Even though Ever was doing better, her meltdown had happened nonetheless and Maevie had caused it. How couldn’t she be mad at her?
“The important thing is that she’s okay now. And if you want to get her a gift, she loves journals and quills.”
Maevie nodded imperceptibly, gaze still lowered. Her insides felt as though they were eating themselves alive, chest burning. She could slap herself for having slipped so stupidly, why had she said that? It had been the one single most terrible secret she had been desperate to keep, and then she had spilled it anyway.
She was so damn stupid.
The tightness from earlier returned, tensing up her entire body and mind, yelling at her to run. Not even the relief of hearing of Ever’s small progress managed to overshadow the absolute shame cooking her alive.
This time, it urged stronger than before.
Her eyes only briefly flicked up at Alice, too scared to see the other’s expression. “I don’t think I should go back to Ever,” she mumbled, growing more restless. “And I— I think I’ll go to bed. Uhm…” Unfurling herself form the couch, Maevie awkwardly stood.
Her fingers played with the hem of her sleeves for a second as she hesitated, glancing at Alice one more time. “I’m sorry,” she added quietly and then swiftly headed for her dorm.
|
