chapter 15

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Selene peered out of the changing rooms and into the rain. It was Ravenclaw's first game of the season against Slytherin. The weather chose the worst possible day to have a breakdown. She couldn't see even a few feet in front of her.
She turned back to the team that was watching her anxiously, "It's like whenever Samantha tries to drink water after practice."
The rest of the group groaned while Samantha raised her hand in protest. "That happened like once."
"It happened more than that, Sam," Davies said, flashing her an incredulous look. "Okay, team. We need to win this game. Forget the rain. We need to focus on the game."
"I was thinking about dancing kittens." Selene laughed, looking around and realizing that no one was laughing; everyone's faces were solemn.
"Now is not the time for your jokes, Selene," Davies said, pacing. "We have to win this game. It is our first game. We need people to realize we should not be counted out. So we can be respected. Show that we aren't here to play."
"Didn't you just say like two sentences ago that we are supposed to play?"
"Selene," he snapped, rubbing his forehead. "We are trying to focus here."
"Right, no jokes."
Davies collapsed onto a bench, holding his head.
"Listen, I know it seems like this is the worst nightmare, but it's not," Selene said, sitting down too. "I have watched you guys play, and you are really good. Better than you think you are. That is why I am making jokes because I have faith in you. Slytherins heavily rely on brute force when they play. Playing dirty. Knocking you out of the air. But they can't see you through the rain today. They can't blindly hit bludgers because it might hit their teammates."
Davies looked up, and Selene took that as a sign to keep going.
"You are smart. You are better when it comes to using your brains for the best tactics in the rain. You made them play a game against each other during a storm during the first week of practice so you could be prepared. You are ready for this."
Davies nodded like he was trying to convenience himself. "You are right. We have got this. Remember what we practiced, guys? Look over the playbook if you need to."
"When am I not right?"
Cho stepped forward. "We should probably start lining up now."
"Right," Davies said, "everyone get in line."
"Hey, that's plagiarism. Cho already said that." Selene smiled.
"Selene, I swear to Merlin, if you say one more thing..."
"We need to go," Cho interrupted, pushing him out of the tent and flashing Selene a warning look behind her.
Selene held up her hands and followed them out into the pouring rain. She couldn't hear the stadium, which she assumed was cheering. Within seconds, she was soaking wet. Her boots sank into the mud with each step. She waved at the team as they met the Slytherin team in the middle of the field, and she went to the sidelines to wait.
Selene's eyes met Theodore's as she walked. Theodore was clutching his beater bat in one hand and his broom in the other. Davies turned around and said something that Selene couldn't hear but assumed was telling them to put their goggles on because that was what people started doing.
Selene stared at Madam Hooch and waited for her mouth to form the words, Mount your brooms. When she finally said it, Selene watched the team swing their legs over the broom and sink their feet into the mud, waiting for the whistle to be blown. She could not hear anything as she squatted down under an umbrella, but as the teams pushed into the air, she guessed the match had started.
Selene stared up into the dark skies for most of the game. Flashes of light illuminated the skies sporadically, giving her a glimpse of a broom or Quaffel, but for the most part, she had no idea what was going on or who was winning.

Selene sprinted at Cho as she landed on the ground, her fist clenched around the snitch. Cho ran at her too, holding it high in the air. They met in the middle, hugging tightly. Suddenly, there were more thoughts around them as the teammates landed and joined the hug. They laughed, and Selene could have sworn Davies wiped his eyes, but that could just have been rain.
All at once, they lifted Cho into the air, chanting her name over and over. Selene felt Samantha sling an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into another hug.
Back in the changing room, Davies turned to her and said, "I may hate all your insensitive jokes, but you're a damn great manager of this team."
"And I may always hold a grudge against the stick up your ass and all the shitty things it has made you say to me when I forget what the play was, but you are a damn good captain."
They shared a smile before he turned back to the rest of the team, congratulating them on the win. Selene picked up her bag and slipped out the door without them realizing it. The rain had eased up into a light drizzle as she made her way back to the school. A creak of a door snapped Selene's head toward the broom shed as Theodore exited. He turned around and froze at the sight of her. She stopped a few feet away from him.
"You did good," Selene said. "You may be total shit at astronomy, but you have a really promising future in flying."
A flicker of a smile crossed his lips, and he took a few steps closer, hands shoved into his pockets. "And you probably have a future in whatever field you want."
"I could not be an unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries. I am way too self-absorbed not to talk about it."
"I could have told you that," he smiled.
Selene rolled her eyes. "Remember, we are meeting tomorrow during lunch instead of after school. Don't be late."
"I haven't been late since the first two times."
"First impressions stay."
"Trust me," he said, eyes glued to hers. "I know."

Selene knocked on Professor Umbridge's classroom door. She had been sick last night again. Her whole body had felt like it was on fire, trying to burn her to ashes from the inside out. The night had ended with her begging to be woken up on time and Madam Pomfrey doing the opposite of what she asked.
The door flew open, and Umbridge put a fake smile on her face. "Late again, Ms. Parkinson."
"Excused late," Selene corrected. "You forgot the excused part, and that's the best part."
Umbridge turned and walked into the classroom, letting the door start to close behind her. Selene squeezed through before it shut and followed Umbridge down the aisle.
"You will turn to page two-thirty and copy the entirety four times for complete retention." She said she was smiling sweetly.
"Only four?" Selene laughed, letting her bag fall to the ground next to her desk. "If it were me, I would do five."
Umbridge raised her voice to address the class, "Thanks to Ms. Parkinson, you have to copy it a fifth time too."
The whole class groaned, and Selene turned to look at them and said, "Please. You will thank me later. One day in the near future, you will have a beautiful life, with a beautiful family or all alone because you never found one, and you will be accepting a promotion, and you are like, 'Wow, whoever do I thank for helping me achieve this?' And I will be in the audience waving and yelling, 'Me.' And all of you will be like, 'Oh yeah, that one time she had us copy it a fourth time.' Because Proffesor Umbridge is right. Of course, copying the reasons why using magic as a defense mechanism should be your last choice in 'DEFENSE against the Dark Arts."
"Ms. Parkinson, take a seat," Umbridge said, her smile falling. "That is quite enough."
"Oh Professor, I'm so sorry I forgot about you in this scenario." She turned back to the class and said, "And then you will be like, 'Oh, I also need to thank my wonderful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.' And professor, I really hate it, but you'll probably be dead by then, so I'll just accept the award on your behalf."
"Detention."
"Fine," Selene said, throwing her hands up, knowing the detention was coming, but her anger had just built up. "I would love to spend a whole night with you."
"Tonight at five."
"No, I can't tonight. I have to tutor." She said, shaking her head, "Someone for a class that they are barely passing. And when I say barely, I mean barely. Sometimes it's like, How can you be this stupid?"
"I don't care about your tutoring, Parkinson. Now, sit and copy page two-thirty, six times."
Selene collapsed into her chair with a sigh. She flipped her book open and began copying down the page. She felt Annie kick her chair from behind, and she leaned back to hear what she had to say.
"That was really stupid of you."
"I'm really high right now off of this medication Pomfrey gave me."
"She barely gives you anything," Annie whispered.
"Well, actually," Selene responded, "she is trying this new thing. It has a really weird name. It's called crystal meth. Ever heard of it?"
"No, but it sounds French," Annie said, carrying the joke along with a snicker.
"Please, like your mom didn't accidentally give you any when you were younger."
"You're mixing that up with weed."
"Oh right, silly me." Selene said, rolling her eyes, "How could she be so stupid?'

"I am just saying," Cas said, walking next to Selene, "that maybe you need to talk to Flitwick or another professor about it."
"There is nothing to talk about," Selene insisted, her pace quickening.
"Ever since you found out about the curse," Cas said, grabbing her arm and causing her to stop. "You have been slightly off your rocker."
"You try and find out what I did," Selene said, her eyebrows drawing together. "And then see how you react."
"I know it is hard," Cas said, gripping Selene's shoulders and lowering her voice. "But I feel like you are using humor to cover up how you are really feeling, which is okay for a while, but you are going to have to face it eventually."
"Since when did you become such an expert?" Selene said, taking a step back, "Because you have to be one to tell me how I am feeling, right?"
"Selene." Cas sighed. "That is not what I meant-"
"No, Cas," Selene said, shaking her head. "I do not need you to explain to me what is going on with me. And I especially do not need you to talk down to me. I have always had this curse since before I even knew you, and just because we now know about it does not make me a ticking bomb that is going to explode any minute. This does not make me less than you in any way. I will not and cannot deal with this right now."
She turned and stormed away from her friend, trying not to let herself feel the tiniest bit guilty. She was allowed to deal with this in her own way. But there was still a part of her that said she did not have to push her best friends away to do so.

"Ms. Parkinson, sit down."
Selene walked into Professor Umbridge's unnaturally pink office. Cats meowed at her off of antique round plates. Her eyes found a picture of Fudge on Umbridge's desk. He was smiling up at her through the camera, making her slightly uncomfortable. Selene spared a glance towards Umbridge, wondering what weird thing was going on.
"You will be doing lines tonight," Umbridge said, motioning Selene toward an out-of-place desk in a corner of the room that had parchment and a quill ready on it.
Selene slowly sat down, her bag thudding against the ground. "What do you want me to write?"
"'I will not joke.'"
Selene gave a small smile and said, "Professor, that's my one redeeming quality. Once my mother saw how I looked, she decided to focus on my personally."
Umbridge just stared at her.
"Right," Selene said, pursing her lips, "how many times do you want me to write that?'
"However long it takes for it to... sink in,"
Selene was about to comment on how it seemed like she had practiced that line a bit too much, but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself. Selene reached down to get an ink well out of her bag.
"That won't be necessary; the quill has its own special type of ink."
Selene pursed her lips and put the ink well back into her bag. She picked up the quill and began writing. By the time she made it to the O in 'don't', her hand started to pinch. She looked down to see faint red lines appearing on her pale skin. Selene shook her head and went back to writing. However, with each word, the pain in her hand became impossible to ignore. After she finished the second line, Selne glanced at her hand again. The lines had gotten slightly more dark and noticeable and now read the same as what appeared on the paper.
Selene glanced up to see Umbridge staring at her, a small, innocent smile on her face. Selene gave her a tight-lipped one back and went back to her writing. She refused to give Umbridge the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.

"I'll see you on Saturday for your next detention," Umbridge said, holding the door open.
"I look forward to it," Selene said, her voice pinched. She walked out the door, all the way down the hall, and rounded the corner before she broke. She pushed herself against the wall and slid down it. Tears streamed down her face as she dug her wand out of her pocket. She waved it over the wound, whispering a spell Pomfrey had taught her at one point.
Selene closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. When she finally opened them and looked down at her hand, there were still thin red lines spelling out the words, but the blood was gone, and it resembled a scratch more than a gash.
Selene finally pushed herself up. She slowly made her way to the Ravenclaw common rooms. She only managed a weak smile at the paintings that greeted her with tips of the hats and waves of gloved hands. When she reached the stairs that led to the entrance to the common room, Selene paused and blew out a breath.
Maybe she could sleep on the stairs the whole night. Shaking her head, Selne climbed the staircase slowly. She looked at the eagle's headknocker and reached her unhurt hand out, knocking it once firmly.
"You have heard me before, yet you hear me again. Then I die till you call me again."
"Really?" Selene asked, "That's what you asked? The dumbest person at this school could figure this out."
Selene waited for a response but didn't get one. She sighed. "An echo."
The door swung open, and Selene stepped inside. She slowly made her way to her room. Her hand still throbbed as she collapsed onto her bed. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she pushed them back. She was going to be fine, she told herself. But she couldn't even believe her own words.

all too well - Theodore NottWhere stories live. Discover now