She whispered

by Lucas Chesterton

  Their subsequent smiles in return make it clear that they’re high.

  ‘Good Evening, Gentlemen,’ she says, hailing the bartender with a quick glance towards him and he nods, finishing up with the customer in front of him.

  It’s Dom.

  She looks away quickly, back to Bas who stands between her and a conversation she’s not ready to have yet so she angles herself so that her back is facing where Dom and her brother are talking lightly.

  ‘Someone let you out of your cage, I see,’ Bas says with a glint in his eye and she lets herself smile at his joke. She thinks if it were for James, she might actually be able to tolerate Bas.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she tells him. ‘They’ve kept me on my leash,’ she explains, pointing over to where Albus is sitting with Rose Weasley and he lets out a laugh.

  ‘And all this time I thought he was the one who was always on your leash,’ he says and she knows he tries to sound like he’s teasing, despite the fact that he means it. They all do.

  She pulls the cigarette from his mouth, her hazel eyes locked on his as she brings it to her lips. She breaths in, a long drag and the nicotine of the muggle cigarettes tastes briefly like heaven. The smoke comes out slowly, away from him but still her eyes don’t move and she can feel him take an involuntary step towards her as their hips meet, flush.

  ‘Jealous that it’s not you on my leash,’ she says and he chuckles, placing his hands on the bar behind her.

  The bartender interrupts her for only a moment as she asks for two beers and returns her gaze to Bas who is doing his best to look smooth when he says, ‘Not in your wildest dreams, Malfoy.’

  She takes another hit. Eyeing him, unblinking. Then, she leans into him, smirking at the way his jaw flinches as she moves in towards him and she places her lips next to his ear, her lipstick grazing his skin slightly.

  ‘No, Sebastian,’ she whispers. ‘Only in yours.’

  He doesn’t speak as she places the cigarette back in his mouth and he looks flustered as she turns to grab the beers. By the time she is squeezing her way back through the crowd she notices James has returned and pauses short of the bar to eye the two of them curiously.

  She winks.

  When she joins Albus and Rose, they’re both engrossed in a conversation that’s causing Albus to frown. Thea thinks maybe her timing is good because Albus smiles when he sees her and she places a beer in his hand a kiss on his cheek to cheer him up.

  Rose looks curious and it’s obvious why. It’s what they all wonder when they see Thea and Albus. The same reason Bas jokes about Al on her leash. The same reason James started this whole thing between them to begin with. But it’s none of their business, no matter how badly they want to know.

  The silence is awkward, but only for a moment because then things get infinitely worse when she realizes someone is standing to her right. She looks up to see Dom, standing there in a yellow jumper and white pants and she tries to ignore the fact that she looks beautiful. Thea, like Bas moments earlier, tries to play off her discomfort with a laugh.

  ‘Did you plan a Potter-Weasley family reunion while I was gone, Al?’ She asks and he chuckles, realizing they are now surrounded by several of his cousins, including Roxanne who is engrossed in Valerie Thomas’ tales of woe.

  ‘Can we talk?’ Dom asks and Thea’s stomach tightens. She places the glass to her lips, willing the liquid to take quick effect when Albus nudges her.

  She sighs, realizing that she is going to have to face this sober and she places her beer on the table where Albus’ feet are propped. She gives him a look and hopes he understands how much she’s dreading this as she says, ‘I’ll only be a moment.’

  He nods. He understands.

  She doesn’t speak to Dom until they are outside. It’s dark and they stand near a lamppost that burns bright enough that Thea can see that Dom looks nervous too. The silence goes on far too long for Thea’s comfort but she also has no intentions of speaking first as she watches Dom search for the words she wants to use.

  ‘Thea,’ she says and her name off the girl’s lips stings. But the pain the words does not betray Thea’s stoney expression. ‘I’m sure he told you���’ Thea scoffs.

  ‘Told me that you tried to sell me out to the Prefects?’ she suggests and Dom’s eyes fall to the ground. ‘I actually figured that one out on my own, thanks,’ she says. ‘I’m not sure what surprised me the most, the fact that you tried to pin me for the drugs or that you were willing to let me believe it was your cousin who ratted me out.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ says Dom and even she doesn’t believe the lie that comes out quietly. ‘Of course I thought you’d suspect James. You two hate each other. I didn’t see what harm it could do. It’s not like you could hate each other more than you already do.’

  ‘You didn’t see the harm?’ is all she can ask because she’s not in the mood for mind games. She wants answers. ‘What about the drugs, did you see the harm in that?’

  ‘It wasn’t meant to go that way. But it happened so fast and I wish I could take it back, I really do. I was so embarrassed when we showed up in your room for the search.’

  ‘You were embarrassed?’ Thea couldn’t believe the girl had the nerve. ‘My privacy was invaded because your friends couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Let me guess. One of them, all of them…they got caught with it. You had to find someone to blame, of course, because they’re your friends. You can’t be seen allowing contraband to infiltrate the school. But instead of blaming the people responsible, you thought you’d blame me. Because I’m disposable.’

  ‘Thea,’ Dom says and she sounds angry now, but she doesn’t have the right to be angry.

  ‘You called me a mistake, Dominique,’ says Thea and Dom’s eyes dance away again because she’s a coward. ‘And what’s worse, you never even told me why.’

  ‘Why, what?’ she asks when she is able to meet Thea’s eyes and there are tears in them.

  Something pulls at Thea.

  ‘Why wasn’t I good enough.’

  ‘That’s not fair,’ Dom says. ‘I never said that you weren’t good enough.’

  ‘You didn’t have to. It was in your eyes when you said I was just a mistake.’ Thea sees that the words make Dom uncomfortable and despite the pain in her chest she can’t help but twist the knife a little further. ‘I shouldn’t have been all that surprised. Knowing how your family feels about me, about my friendship with Albus. I’m sure you couldn’t stomach the idea of telling them what we did.’

  The look in Dom’s eyes confirm Thea’s assumption and the plan backfires because the only one the knife of Thea’s words twists deeper into, is herself.

  ‘I cared for you.’ Thea hates the way Dom uses the past tense. ‘That was real, Thea,’ she says, taking a step forward and Thea tries to take a step back but she can’t.

  Dom places a hand on her cheek and there is a lump in Thea’s throat that begins to grow. Her eyes close at the feeling, so familiar and yet so excruciating. She wants to scream, to tell Dom she’s selfish and hurtful. To tell her she’s a hypocrite for pushing Thea away because of what people think about her when Dom’s the one with the secrets and the lies. They’ve both got secrets she thinks and she’s thankful that she never shared hers with Dom.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ are the words Dom says next and it’s like a punch to the gut to Thea who struggles to find her breath. The lump grows and it’s heavy and wretched and Thea knows screaming is out of the question now because she can barely breathe. ‘I truly am sorry for hurting you. Both this summer and with the Prefects. I was scared and I panicked. And I was wrong.’

  I was wrong, Thea repeats in her mind and she is too much of a coward to ask about which part.

  Thea’s eyes are still closed when she feels lips on hers. They are soft and cold from the night air. Thea’s lips respond, her body like a recurring reverie as she feels herself lulled into the moment. She’s transported to the island, to the hot stickiness of summer
and the taste of Dom’s skin against her mouth.

  But suddenly there’s salt, and Thea’s reaction is so abrupt as she steps back that she nearly falls over. She stumbles on some unknown piece of rubbish on the ground and she is shaking her head as she places her fingers over her lips. Dom’s eyes reflect the ache in Thea’s heart.

  ‘Don’t,’ she whispers into the darkness. ‘Don’t, do that.’

  ‘Thea,’ she whispers and for the first time she looks up to see that the salt she assumed were Dom’s tears are not Dom’s at all.

  They belong to Thea.

  ‘Just. Leave me alone,’ she says, her voice raised and Dom nods, looking downtrodden as she starts off on the long road up towards the school. She doesn’t look back as Thea watches her leave.

  She’s not used to this, but perhaps she should be by now. She spent the summer lusting after a beautiful girl like Dom. Of course she was heartbroken when things ended the way they did. But she hates that she’s been relegated to this person. To tears that remind her over and over that she was a mistake. That she wasn’t good enough.

  Of rejection.

  She spend the next five minutes alone and in the dark as she wipes them away, evidence of her weakness smothered over red eyes and windswept cheeks. She steadies her breathing and straightens her black blouse.

  She pulls herself together because she refuses to let them see her this way.

  She’s no longer interested in abiding Al’s desire for folly and she decides to walk up the castle alone. He won’t mind, she tries to tell herself but her feet won’t move more than a few steps before she’s staring back at the tavern door. He will mind, she thinks. He’ll mind that she left him and he’d want her to wait, because he hates when she walks back alone.

  She’s stepping back, intending to wait over by the tree where the lamppost hangs and she is stopped by the force of a body knocking into her. Her head collides with another, foreheads that cause both parties to groan, and she hears a sickening crunch that causes her to cringe.

  ‘Bloody Hell!’ the familiar voice shouts and she loses her balance as she falls to the ground, glancing up at the person in question to see James Potter, holding his nose as he too stumbles back at the force.

  He wobbles, holding his face as he reaches down to help her and she stares at his hand for several moments because that’s how long it takes for him to realize who she is. He’s drunk, it’s the only reason he lends his hand but he immediately lets it fall back to his side when recognition washes over him. He’s shaking his head when their eyes meet, blood now dripping from beneath his hand.

  ‘Of-bloody-course,’ he says, his voice slightly muffled by his hand.

  ‘You can’t seriously believe I did that on purpose, Potter,’ Thea says, struggling to stand and she steps slightly into the shadows, hoping to hide the redness in her eyes.

  ‘Let’s just say it wouldn’t surprise me,’ he answers and she swallows, trying to relieve the fading lump in her throat.

  ‘I’m not going to do this tonight,’ she says, her voice tired and he laughs, the sound harsh.

  ‘Because I came out here hoping to break my own nose?’

  She shakes her head, pulling her wand from her jacket pocket and he takes a step back and she rolls her eyes. He reaches for his wand, clumsily. If she wanted to disarm him, hex him, really hurt him. She could have done it ten times by the time he finally gets it out and has it pointed at her.

  ‘I’m going to fix it, you idiot.’ She hold her hands out, her wand staring at the ground.

  ‘You’re not pointing that thing at me.’

  ‘I know the spell. It will only sting for a second���’ she starts but she doesn’t even have a moment to explain before James is muttering something under her breath and her wand flies out of her hand and into his.

  She stares at him and it must be for a while because now that both of his hands are preoccupied the blood drips down his face. He wipes his lips with the sleeve of his stupid red jumper and she feels her blood beginning to boil. Her eyes sting but she ignores it as she walks towards him slowly.

  ‘How dare you,’ she whispers. ‘Give it back.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘James Potter, you give me back my wand or so help me I’ll-‘

  ‘What? Break my nose again?’

  ‘Me breaking your nose will be a fond memory in comparison,’ she says and closes the gap between them as she reaches to snatch her wand back but he holds it over her head. Her eyes close in frustration. ‘This isn’t a game. Give me. My wand.’

  He’s drunk and it’s the only reason he’s not in as much pain as he will be once he sobers up so he smiles and that glint in his eye returns and she immediately regrets offering to help him in the first place.

  ‘Well I’m sure if you asked nicely.’

  Her teeth clench under the pressure of her jaw.

  ‘Not tonight. I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Well I’m never in the mood for you, Malfoy,’ he says, his voice low. ‘Now, how about that little bitty please and we’ll both be on our way?’

  Once again she’s driven to frustration as she looks up at him, standing over her as she strains her neck to look up at him. He no longer seems concerned over the blood on his face or the fact that his nose is slightly crooked because he’s grinning like an idiot and Thea feels only fury.

  ‘Wait a second,’ he whispers and the hand that holds her wand lower slowly as his eyes are dancing over her face. ‘Are you…are you crying?’ he asks and she reaches up to wipe her face again, cursing herself for not fixing her red eyes when she had the chance. ‘This is priceless,’ he says with a laugh.

  If she had her wand she’d hex him into next week. But seeing as she doesn’t, she raises her fist and lets it collide with his face. This time, she doesn’t cringe when she hears a slight crunch.

  He falls back, this time unable to stop himself as he hits the ground, crying out in pain and her wand falls next to him.

  ‘Thea!’ From the look on her best friend’s face it’s clear he’s chosen that exact moment to come outside.

  ‘It’s not what it looks like,’ she says and she hates that she sounds like a cliche.

  She’s sitting outside Professor McGonagall’s office with her arms crossed, pretending not to notice James who is sitting across from her. She’s not sure why the two of them alone but she thinks it might have been a mistake because she’s ready to strangle him when she’s finished her interviews with the Headmaster. He’s close enough that she could kick him if she tried. But she doesn’t. She refuses.

  James is smug, sitting there with a small smile on his lips because he thinks he’s won. There are witnesses, he’s probably thinking, and they all saw her hit him in the square in the nose with rage in her eyes. But one of those witnesses is Albus and she knows that no matter what he thinks he saw, he wouldn’t get her in trouble. She hasn’t had a chance to explain to him but she knows she’ll have to later.

  McGonagall knows Albus would never speak out against her, however. But she also knows that regardless of who they are, the other three witnesses will likely corroborate James’ story because Thea’s popularity is still at an all time low. She’s not sure if their stories would be any different had they stepped out a few moments sooner. But unfortunately by the time anyone was around to bear witness, he had already pushed her to her breaking point.

  She still hates that she lost control.

  Her father has probably been notified by now and she already knows what he’ll say.

  Control, Theodora. You must keep your cool. You cannot allow others to provoke you into such behavior.

  His voice is clear in her mind, because she’s heard it before. He’s said it more times than she’d care to admit, every time he’s been notified about an incident between herself and James. And it’s always James.

  Why are you able to control your temper with everyone else? Why him?

  But she can’t answer that question. She doesn’t k
now, why him. Why James. She can’t pinpoint the reason he gets under her skin. There is nothing special about him in particular, nothing original about his taunts. They’re all the same and he’s just the same as all the others who whisper behind her back.

  And just like the others, it should be simple to ignore him.

  But she can’t. Just like she can’t ignore the tapping of his foot as he sits in the chair across from her and she glares at it. It’s dancing boredly against the floor, the scuffed shoe and his overstretched socks that are starting to droop down just above his ankles.

  ‘Can you control your foot?’ she says, her voice clear but drenched in impatience as she sighs heavily.

  He stops, only long enough to process what she has said before he continues. If possible, it’s louder than before. He meets her eyes and his brown orbs pierce hers with amusement. With challenge because he wants to bait her.

  She would love to hex him, but despite the fact that both of their wands have been temporarily confiscated during their interviews, she also desperately just wants to go to bed. Sleep deprivation isn’t just bad for her complexion, it also causes worse things, worse things than James Potter and his incessant fidgeting.

  The only thing she can muster is a scoff as she looks in the other direction.

  ‘So what were you crying about anyways?’ he asks, his words so casual any naive passerbyer might think the two had no issues with civility. And yet, Thea can hear his taunt, dripping from his words,.

  ‘I wasn’t crying,’ she replies.

  He ignores her lie, shrugs as he crosses his left leg over his right. ‘I didn’t even realize you could cry.’

  ‘I wasn’t crying.’ she says again, her anger rising as the words are ground out through her teeth. Still he ignores her.

  ‘Well I guess everyone cries about something,’ he replies contemplatively. ‘I just never expected you of all people���’

  ‘Why? Because I don’t have a soul?’ She’s pretty sure he couldn’t be more condescending if he tried.

  ‘I’m still not entirely convinced.’