Only three drops of veritaserum were necessary to have someone spill their innermost darkest secrets. But using veritaserum on Hogwarts students was strictly forbidden. Of course, I didn't make it public information that I had successfully brewed veritaserum, and I trusted that Myrtle considered me a friend and therefore would never snitch on me. However, I did feel a tinge of fear every time Malfoy spoke. I had let in more than a mere three drops of veritaserum into the pumpkin juice, and he had drunk all of it, unknowingly.
Malfoy had just unwillingly announced that he thought I was always pretty and that he cared about me — allegedly. That statement made me want to disappear from the face of the Earth. And not because I felt flustered and sheepish by it, but because he would never utter such kind things to me without a truth serum forcing him to. I felt a mixture of disgust and confusion building in my chest. I didn't really understand what he meant and why he meant it. I felt extremely awkward and was having a difficult time processing what was happening.
On one hand, I could use this situation to my advantage and have Malfoy admit to things he never would otherwise. But on the other hand, I was not entirely sure that I wanted to know everything he secretly thought.
"Well, thank you for the hairdo, Tracey," I said with a genuine smile, completely ignoring Malfoy's comment. His cheeks had turned a few shades pinker when he realized what he said about me. "I'm very grateful. And I'm sure my aunt will be too as soon as she sees me this winter break."
"My pleasure!" Tracey beamed with excitement. She patted my hair twice before sitting down next to me. "I'll do some touch-ups every few weeks for when your hair grows back."
I had already finished eating, and at this point, I was just waiting for the others. I peered around the Slytherin table, my gaze finally landing on the S4. I often found myself glancing back at them whenever I wasn't eating with them. James hadn't spoken to me about his scar for a while now, and I was most curious about how well it must be healing now, but I felt too sheepish to dare ask him directly.
"Still fondling over Lancaster, Blackwood?" Malfoy derided, scowling unpleasantly at James from afar.
"I once again do not understand why you care about who I am friends with." I shook my head in disagreement at him.
"Friends? So, you really are friends with him? Isn't he a bit old for you?" Malfoy had an unfamiliar look of concern on his face, which made me want to punch him, oddly enough.
"He's just two years older — And we're strictly just friends. I don't know what you're even trying to imply here."
"Is that why you two often hide off into those closed-up study rooms down in the common room? Doing things strictlyfriends do?"
I gave Malfoy a look of utter bewilderment. He had a contemptuous sneer on his face and he kept glancing between James and me. Thankfully, James was too busy conversing with his fellow S4 friends to notice.
"What? You think that I'm — that I'm snogging him or something? That is all in your head, Malfoy. I'm bloody thirteen."
Never had I ever rolled my eyes at Malfoy as hard as I had just now. Sure, he was unconsciously under the influence of a truth serum, but I did not expect him to actually think that I was... well, doing things like that... Especially not at my age.
"Whatever, Blackwood. I know you like him," he grumbled, crossing his arms.
"I don't! And honestly, who cares if I do anyway? It's none of your bloody business, Malfoy. You have got to learn to mind your own shit."
"You are so entitled, Blackwood," Malfoy sat up straight on his seat as he spewed those words at me. His face scrunched in irritation.
"What? How am I entitled, while you are the most dramatic child I know!"
"Because you think you own anything that you want, even if other people oppose it."
"Well that's rich coming from you—"
"Last year, you stole my broomstick that my father gifted me for joining the Quidditch team, and you even punched me because you were jealous that I got that spot—"
"But you didn't even earn that spot, and I only borrowed your broom—"
"What kind of person borrows something without asking? I had to personally get it back from your dorm because you wouldn't give it back to me otherwise—"
"Yeah, but then, you tried to snitch on me to Snape about my potion brewing—"
"He didn't even care when I told him about it. I had to make that stupid cauldron accident in the common room for him to do anything about it."
Malfoy was surely expecting me to snap back at him, but I simply halted. His confession kept repeating in my head over and over again. Malfoy was red in the face, and I could feel the heat boiling in my cheeks as well.
It had just occurred to me now that other students were gazing at us, then whispering to each other. Our friends were uncharacteristically silent as they awkwardly ate their breakfast. I glanced at the staff table to find out that Snape was thankfully not present anymore.
Malfoy remained silent, but he still seethed as he glowered at me.
"So, it was Malfoy?" I concluded, my eyes landing on Daphne. She looked just as surprised as me. "He's the one who ruined my potions set last year?"
"I swear I thought it was Pansy—" Daphne began.
"Me? But I would never do this to Maeve!" Pansy jumped in defensively.
"Who cares about a bloody set of potions. You can always replace it!" Malfoy grouched with annoyance.
"You are so immature, Malfoy," was all I could utter at the moment. I knew Malfoy sucked, but I sincerely didn't expect him to have been responsible for that whole incident.
Frankly, I didn't expect anyone who would consider themself my friend to do something like this to me. And it was even more unfathomable to me how this happened last year, while I still considered him a friend, and before I met Hermione. That was before I was trying to eliminate my pureblood-prejudiced friends from my life.
"This potion set was one of a kind. A year's worth of research was flushed down the drain because of you, Malfoy. And to think, you still insist on befriending me when you have pulled shit like this. It didn't even occur to me when I told you I didn't want you in my life anymore, but you are a terrible friend. You always have been. And it just sucks because we were friends for a really long time, and I'm only now realizing how shitty you always were, not just to other people, but to me as well."
Draco Malfoy didn't seem to know what to say, which was convenient because I did not care about what he had to say anyway.
"Well, I'm off to potions, now. Hopefully, you'll be mature enough to reflect on your actions, but who am I kidding? You'll never change."
And at that, I hoisted my bag over my shoulder, stomped away from the Slytherin table and got out of the great hall.
I felt like my heart was about to explode out of my chest. I almost felt like I was shaking as I marched towards the dungeons. I had never said anything direct like that to Malfoy before, or to anyone ever, really. It felt so out of character for me to be so confrontational. I almost felt like I wasn't myself right now.
I tried to steady my breathing when I reached the potions corridor. I did not want to burst into tears in Snape's class. It took all of my willpower to stop myself from sobbing. Sure, I was upset with Malfoy, but I also had this nearly uncontrollable urge to bawl my eyes out.
Thankfully, I didn't get to that point before I arrived at the potions classroom. The door was already open, so I let myself inside. Snape was already there, at his front desk. I mutely installed myself at a seat near the front.
Potions was my favourite subject, and so I sighed in relief knowing that everything was going to be better now that I would be brewing again. The softly simmering solutions of my cauldrons, with the gentle aromas sifting through the air. These were a few things that I thought about as I tried to ease myself, this morning. We weren't brewing yet, but just the thought of peacefully bubbling potions and sweet fragrant smells was enough to calm me down. It was all going to be okay. Malfoy was history. I didn't have to think about him ever again.
Days passed and my peace was kept intact with Malfoy's sudden and fortunate avoidance of me. The days had finally come where he would leave me alone, and I was infinitely grateful towards him for it. I could eat with Tracey and Daphne without Malfoy randomly inserting himself in our conversation.
Of course, I did tend to look back at the S4 with whom I had eaten for many weeks before. I wondered if they missed my company at all, but I didn't dare interact with them. I mean, there were the occasional nods from when we'd momentarily see each other in the hallways. Sometimes, Wyatt would open his mouth to speak but Elijah and James would tell him, "no," before he could voice what would no doubt be another one of his countless potion requests. Elijah had the tendency of ignoring my existence, while Isaiah would kindly voice a brief "hello." As for James, well we stuck to mutely nodding at each other.
On another topic, I had completely forgotten about that Romeo boy until I saw him emerge into the Great Hall with none other than Ivy Law next to him. I feared for a second that he would recognize me so I almost made a sprint for it, but then I remembered he only saw the back of my head back then, and I had since then gotten Fulani braids done to my hair by Tracey.
Feeling safe with my new braids, I strolled in what I hoped to be a casual manner next to them. I thought that I could breathe when I had managed to walk past them, but Ivy suddenly stopped in her tracks with Romeo.
"Hang on, you there," she said to me.
I winced as I cautiously turned to face her, feigning a smile.
"You're that Maeve girl! I almost didn't recognize you with your new hair," she said with a short chuckle. "You used to have that large mane before. It looks much nicer now."
I remained there speechless and motionless, unable to conjure a response to what really did not sound like a compliment at all.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, tossing her flat platinum blonde hair behind her. "I'm Ivy, remember? We briefly met before because of Fred and George...?"
"Oh — Right," was all I managed to voice. My heart was pounding out of my chest as I desperately tried not to look at Romeo.
Please do not recognize me........!!
"You're Maeve?" Romeo piped in. "Maeve Blackwood?"
I wanted to dash away and forever disappear, but all I could physically do with this tight feeling in my chest was stay immobile.
"Er — Yup! That would be me..." I again feigned a smile. "Heard about me before...?"
"Yeah, I heard your name being tossed here and there before," he said.
"Oh."
"All good-natured, of course," he added when my facial expression melted into what I was hoping wouldn't be a frown but probably was. "Erm — I mean, no one was talking shit about you, I promise — you know, like, I mean, I don't know, maybe they were, but I don't pay attention to gossip, anyway, so—"
Ivy nudged Romeo on the side so hard with her elbow that he nearly fell over.
Clearing her throat, Ivy said, "Anyway, Romeo means to say nice to meet you, I'm Romeo."
"Oh, right, uh... I'm Romeo," he added awkwardly. "Romeo Linares."
He extended his hand out formally for me to shake. I did so rather rapidly.
"Er — nice to meet you too," I managed to say despite this hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I was really hoping that he didn't remember me from the lake incident. It wouldn't look good on me for him to know that I was eavesdropping on his conversation with some random Lakeman. To be fair, I hadn't intended for that to happen, but he didn't know that, and so, I still lived in fear.
"Oh, before we part ways, Maeve," Ivy said suddenly. "Do you happen to know where Fred and George are? I can't see them at the Gryffindor table, and they weren't in the common room either..."
"Dunno." I pursed my lips and shrugged.
"Really?" she mused as she glanced over my head. "I have this odd feeling that they are avoiding me..."
"Sorry to hear that," I deadpanned unintentionally. "Er, well, I hope you find them soon and that it is all a misunderstanding," I added in what I personally judged to be slightly more enthusiastic. "I'll be going, now..."
Romeo and I exchanged a brief nod before I turned around to face the Entrance Hall with one step forward. I hadn't expected to land face-first against someone's chest. And I certainly hadn't hoped for this person to be James Lancaster.
He looked just as surprised as me from my abrupt appearance. And his entourage was actually void of his S4 friends, this time.
For a short and awkward moment, we exchanged looks and cleared our throats at the same time.
"Late for supper?" I asked just before he could voice anything.
"I still have time," he said with a seemingly repressed smile. "Care to join?"
"I've already eaten," I answered. "But yes I do care to join, actually... Thanks for the, er, offer."
James fully smiled at me, small creases forming at the corners of his beetle-black eyes. He looked inside the Great Hall where he suddenly began marching in. I trailed behind him silently as he led me to his typical S4 spot at the Slytherin table.
I wanted to ask him about the scar above his eye, but the timing felt awkward not only because we were now surrounded by eavesdropping Slytherins everywhere, but also because we hadn't properly spoken in what had probably been weeks. We were nearing the end of October, and this was only the second verbal interaction I had with James all month.
I felt my heart drop slightly just as I dropped my body onto the seat next to James. Isaiah waved gleefully at me, while Elijah eyed me suspiciously, and Wyatt eyed my bag with interest. I felt like my cheeks were heating up under my skin, and I tried to remain composed.
"So, you're back here, aren't you?" Elijah questioned dubiously. James coughed awkwardly. I glanced sideways, feeling like everyone in Slytherin house was looking at me, even though they probably weren't.
"Er, yeah, I suppose so..." I shrugged.
Elijah suddenly appeared disinterested in me and instead, directed his energy towards his S4 mates to talk about schoolwork.
"This is rubbish," Wyatt sighed loudly, his greyish blue eyes gazing up in disbelief. "I've still got two weeks of detention with McGonagall."
"Shouldn't have tried to get into that girl's pants -- or rather, up her skirt..." Elijah commented dryly. I looked around at them all with perplexion. "Long story," Elijah added upon noticing my confused reaction.
"Well, I haven't gotten any place to be tonight," I informed him. "What happened?"
James shook his head with a saddened smile on his face and said, "You'll lose all respect for Wyatt after this one -- I did, anyway."
"Who said I respected him in the first place?" I quipped, smirking with amusement as Wyatt rolled his eyes at that.
"For the record, alright?" Wyatt began. "I am not a perv."
"Oh, so it really is that kind of story, huh?" I mused, shaking my head in disbelief. "Well? What did happen?"
"I bet you ten galleons they're all going to exaggerate the details," Wyatt scoffed before anyone could expand on the story. He crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as if he didn't want to be too invested in the fact that his friends were about to expose him.
"So, is he a perv, or not?" I finally asked after no one spoke for a hot moment.
"Yeah," they all answered just as Wyatt claimed, "Absolutely not."
"Fine," Wyatt huffed in annoyance. "You want to know what happened? I'll tell you, Maeve."
I straightened up my body, my interest absolutely piqued.
"It was the first day of Transfiguration with McGonagall, nothing out of the ordinary. I arrived late and the only free spot was next to this random Ravenclaw girl. I think, fine, at least, it's in front of James, Elijah and Isaiah, right? Well, it's just my luck that I drop my quill on the floor and just as I try to pick it up, I accidentally hit my ink bottle with my elbow and it lands on that girl's skirt. So now--"
"Wait, hang on," Elijah interrupted. "You're missing the part where when you dropped that quill, you were leaning against that poor girl, your hands grabbing by her ankles as you tried to find that quill--"
"You're exaggerating! I told her, hey, I hope you don't mind me there two seconds, I need my quill--"
"Sure, but you spilled that ink right onto the front of her skirt--" Isaiah began.
"And this fool thought that putting his hands there would be appropriate," James added, shaking his head.
"Wait, what? I'm not sure I'm following anymore," I admitted after they had gone back and forth for a while.
"This lad drops his quill on the floor on the other side of that girl's chair," Elijah started all over again before Wyatt could. "And instead of simply asking her like a normal human being if she could pick it up for him, he leans right over her body, completely invading her personal space -- mind you, he's a complete stranger to her -- and fumbles around her ankle to find that quill. Just as he does, he hits his ink bottle over the desk, and it lands onto her skirt, staining her clothes."
My brow furrowed uncomfortably as I put myself inside that girl's shoes.
"And then," Elijah resumed, "Wyatt seems to think that he could wipe her clothes clean with his bare hands because he does exactly that without warning as if it would help the situation in the slightest. Friendly reminder that the ink is right at the front of her skirt where Wyatt has no business putting his hands. He's essentially molesting her at this point. This girl has it over her head, she's definitely upset with him now. She stands up furiously, picks up her ink bottle and tosses all of its content right onto Wyatt's face. McGonagall notices this and gives them both detention. Frankly, that girl deserved an award and not detention, but apparently, McGonagall hadn't witnessed the whole thing and thought they were both to blame for the incident."
"Wow," was all I could say at the moment. I scoffed a laugh. "So, you're telling me... Wyatt is an absolute... idiot.
"One hundred percent," Elijah confirmed my claim with unwavering certainty.
"Well, that poor girl..." I pursed my lips. "I hope she's okay now."
"Yeah, she served her detention days and is free now. But Wyatt had been avoiding detention because he was too embarrassed to be around her," Isaiah explained with a small innocent laugh at his friend. Wyatt had a blank expression on his face. Obviously, he wasn't proud of the incident, but clearly, his brains lacked a few too many brain cells.
"Well, you don't make my life any easier, Isaiah. You're friends with her, now," Wyatt derided with irritation.
"Well, someone had to let her know that not all Slytherins are sex offenders," James commented snidely. Wyatt rolled his eyes very dramatically at that.
"I didn't mean for it to come off like that," he grumbled miserably.
"I know, I know, Wyatt," Isaiah said, patting his friend's back. "But Amirah doesn't exactly see it that way."
"Amirah?" I repeated, bemused. "That girl's name is Amirah. As in Amirah Flowers?"
"Oh, right, you've met her before," Isaiah said in sudden realization. "Yeah, that was her."
Amirah's friendship with Isaiah finally had a backstory, but it was certainly not the kind that I was expecting. I'd never have guessed that one of Wyatt's gormless performances was the reason why Isaiah became friends with Amirah Flowers. Come to think of it, the whole reason why I am friends with the S4 is also because of some foolish thing Wyatt did.