Paisley Higgs | (Sirius Black)

Chapter 4- Pity Party

"PAISLEY HIGGS, YOU ARE THE WORST BEST FRIEND IN THE HISTORY OF BEST FRIENDS! OKAY, MAYBE NOT THE WORST—THAT'S A LITTLE HARSH—BUT I'M VERY DISAPPOINTMENT THAT YOU HAVEN'T WRITTEN TO ME AT ALL! WE ALL KNOW YOU'RE DOING NOTHING ANYWAYS—ITS NOT LIKE YOU HAVE ANY FRIENDS OVER THERE—"

Matt's deafening twang—now the only sound gracing the sleepy little neighborhood—echoed off the roof of the house making him sound about a hundred times louder. I cradled my face in my hands, praying it would all be over soon.

"—SHOOT A MONKEY—SORRY, PAIS, THAT CAME OUT WRONG— AND I'M SORRY THIS IS PROBABLY ALL YELLY AND AGGRESSIVE—DID YOU KNOW THESE THINGS ONLY HAVE ONE VOLUME?! I DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO USE A HOWLER, BUT YOU REALLY LEFT ME WITH OTHER CHOICE—I MEAN THREE WEEKS, PAIS?! UGH! WRITE ME BACK YOU LITTLE BRAT OR I SWEAR ON MY 1936 COLLECTORS EDITION SUPERMAN I'LL MAKE AN ILLEGAL PORTKEY AND SHOW UP AT YOUR FRONT DOOR NEXT TIME!!"

And with that oath, the envelope burst into flames.

Or so I assumed.

I still hadn't removed my hands from my face.

Frozen in place.

Rendered motionless by a double dose of mortification.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Sirius had ceased cursing out the Great Almighty long ago... which meant he and James probably heard everything.

Lovely.

They had to have guessed I was a socially inept weirdo before this point—hello grocery store incident—but now it had been confirmed by Matthew's bellowing Howler. What kind of person doesn't write their best friend back for three weeks anyway?

Ugh. Me. Crazy Paisley. That's who.

This is probably why pretty girls get invited places and I don't.

They're all gorgeous and un-awkward... punctual in answering their post... and then there's me. The lurking antisocial troll on the roof.

I didn't dare look toward Potter Cottage as I shimmied down the shingles to my bedroom window landing. I couldn't bare the thought of seeing their faces. I didn't even go down and pick up the pieces of my jackalope mug scattered on the lawn. I just slipped inside my little pink and orange bedroom, turned off the lights and crawled in bed, hoping it was all a nightmare.

*

At 2am I awoke to what I swear was the sound of a dog barking its head off outside my window. But, when I ungracefully stumbled across my messy room and pulled back the fuchsia drapes, there was nothing but a flickering street lamp to grace the old village road.

I poked my head out a little further and frowned at the jackalope mug still in pieces upon the lawn. Ceramic antlers separated from its adorable long ears. I mentally made a note to fix it the next day. Or rather, ask mom to fix it. Probably couldn't manage the spell even if I was allowed to use magic.

With a sigh I went back into my room, leaving the window open a little this time to let in the breeze while I slept. Only... I didn't think I could go back to sleep just yet.

While most of me was groggy and longed for a nice dreamless slumber where I could completely forget all my problems existed for a few hours, my conscience was fully awake and currently bouncing around with me like kangaroo rat.

Which was how I found myself at my desk next to the stack of unopened letters from Matty.

"Paisley!