Maeve Macmillan liked to write.
It didn't matter if it was writing her thoughts in her diary, short stories in a journal, articles for newspapers, essays for homework, letters to her parents, simple reminders on her hand, quotes on parchment to st...
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---------------------> THE SURPRISE ON MAEVE'S PRETTY FEATURES drained away and panic began to replace it instead. She closed the cap on the bottle of water and kept it to the side. Grimacing when she realised her skirt was wet, Maeve produced her wand and waved it over her clothes, drying it. Pocketing her wand once more, Maeve stood up.
Regulus grasped her wrist. "I'm not letting you go unless you answer me."
"But I want to close the window-blankets," Maeve explained with furrowed brows, casting her gaze to the curtains in the compartment. "It's a little too much light for me."
Regulus' cheeks gained a pink hue as he released her wrist. "Oh. Go ahead then."
Maeve closed the curtains, bringing darkness into the compartment. It perfectly set the atmosphere. Had she been writing a similar scene for a story, she would have also added thunderstorms to indicate that the Gods themselves were angry at the events occurring. Alas, the sky outside was bright and beautiful, juxtaposing the turmoil of worries Maeve had in her head.
Maeve sat back down. Although she had brought chocolate frogs for her father, she handed one to Regulus, who accepted it this time, before popping one into her mouth. Oh, the woes of not travelling with chocolate pudding during times it was desperately necessary.
"Well?" Regulus arched an eyebrow. "Aren't you Somebody?"
"What? No," Maeve laughed a little too much, not meeting his eyes. "Me, Somebody? That's silly because I'm not Somebody. I have a forty-page essay written by Halley stating all the points to prove that I'm not."
"Really?" Regulus crossed his legs, placed his hands on his kneecaps and leaned forward like he was watching an entertaining play commence.
Maeve nodded frantically. "It's in my trunk, just wait a couple of hours and I can prove specifically why I'm not Somebody." She hesitated, unsure whether or not she had packed Halley's detailed essay. Maeve regretted not learning it by heart. When she realised Regulus was still looking at her, Maeve dispelled those thoughts with a shake of her head, before telling him firmly, "I'm not Somebody." Not anymore, at least.
Regulus appeared indifferent. "I don't believe you."
Maeve folded her arms. "I'm under no obligation to make you believe me. I don't even care if you believe me or not, but you believing that I'm Somebody will not make me be Somebody because I'm not Somebody, and the power of believing isn't that great that it could make somebody who isn't Somebody be Somebody, and I'm really not Somebody, please believe me."
"You're making it very hard to do so." Regulus copied her stance. "You know, for a writer, you're rather bad at lying."
Maeve's faint smile dissipated as she leaned back uneasily, folding her hands carefully on her lap and knotting her fingers together. Then, she sighed, resignation intertwined in her features. "I know."
