ate_malcolm

Prefect Patrol

Tue, 23 Oct 2007 01:53:49 GMT

Prefect duties, it’s as boring as it sounds. You roam the halls of Hogwarts looking for people out after curfew, and report them. Follow set procedures handed to you in meetings, all of this goes with your badge. I’ve done this for a year and a half now, and during the time I’ve learned I never want to be a part of Magical Law Enforcement.

It’s not only boring, it’s useless. Rules are set by some majority consent, and then people break those rules. This is just how life is. No exceptions. The biggest problem with all of this, everything, is just what this represents for me.

Boredom.

Trying to handle problems that will never be solved, wasting my own time and energy in doing so. Here’s the scenario. You find a fourth year Hufflepuff out with a fourth year Ravenclaw. It is after curfew. They are holding hands, taking a walk, not even snogging. What do you do? Well, according to prefect procedure you report them to their head of house. What will this result in? Either points being taken away or detention. Will this put people in their proper place? No. Humans are creatures of freedom, embracing it like a dying breath.

So what will truly be the result? If you’re going to get caught and get punished, you might as well make it worth it.

So the next time you catch the same two people, it will be snogging rather than walking. After that….

I keep walking through the stoned passageways, Natalie drifting in and out of my mind. My fingers trail along the smooth, cold surface of the grey rocks lined and sealed, mortar and magic.

These walls, they used to mean something too me. An escape from my home, or rather my former home, they used to represent solace and peace from that life. Now, with the year I’ve had, the walls look, they feel, just like walls. Holding the world out, holding me in. I don’t know which is better.

I don’t know which is worse.

It is all so familiar, so average, so boring to me now. When I heard my parents had stopped my funding and there was a good chance I wouldn’t be able to attend Hogwarts any longer, a piece of my heart swelled. Longing for the freedom away from my peers, from the lessons, I wanted away from the society within these walls.

And then I received word that I was awarded the scholarship. I would be able to finish my education, well, through this year. I suppose I will have to be reviewed again next year to fully finish out to my N.E.W.T.s.

The only thing that kept a smile on my face was Natalie.

She rushed to me in a hug. Told me how this was brilliant news. And in her excitement, who was I to argue? I even believed it for a moment myself.

I walk by the corridor that is so familiar to me now. I sleep there, but not every night. Not even most. I don’t want too many questions asked too soon. So every so often it looks like I was either the first one out of the dormitories, or that I was out when I wasn’t supposed to be.

And now my house mates are calling me a charity case as well. The next time I’m in the common room I may as well wear a pink frilly dress and be done with it.

If I am honest with myself, and face all my facts, I’m only still here for Nat. Everything here in Hogwarts is so easy and comfortable, but now that I know how some people really are, how some lives are truly meant to be lived, the place I considered to be my peace, almost my home.

All over again, they’ve just become walls to someone wanting more.

Needing something better, than walking around in the darkened silence of prefect duties.

A Day of Idiots, Bats, Money and Little Moments

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 02:57:55 GMT

Parents kicked me out, my house mates hate me, the one good thing I have going for me anymore sleeps in the opposite part of the castle as me and only have the sporadic class together. I've got to start eating at the Gryffindor table.

Right. As if Caley and Dennis, the only other two Gryffs I know beside Natalie, aren't still looking at me, and Natalie funny.

Yeah, perfect start to a year.

Even the first year Muggleborn Slytherin is holding up better than I am. She walks around like she owns the dungeon, and everyone basically keeps their distance from her. Almost an outcast. But no real outwards hostility towards her.

But I'm a pure blood, I should know better.

And today I've scheduled Quidditch tryouts.

Brilliant.

I latch my beater's bat to my trousers. I get my broom from my trunk. My fingers slide over the polished wood briefly. Natalie gave this to me. This is probably the only thing I own that I really care about.

I hitch the broom up my shoulder and leave the Slytherin house. Like every day since I have been here: I just want to get through it.

The trip outside is surprisingly uneventful. Once I'm to the pitch is a different story.

Most of the team is returning this year, Only need to replace one chaser and a seeker. But my team isn't here.

Breathe.

I look at the handful of scattered students on the pitch.

"Who's trying out for chaser?"

Two hands rise.

"Who's trying out for seeker?"

One hand.

I close my eyes, rub my temples, this is not worth the headache. Open my eyes and look at the two people trying out for chaser. Neither what I would call impressive by any means.

I take my bat and start spinning my wrist. Distraction.

"What year are you in?"

"Fourth."

"You?"

"First."

Well this was an easy tryout.

"Fourth year, and," I point at the only person to apply for the seeker position, "you're on the team."

The first year looks disappointed, the fourth year turns and says loud enough for me to hear, "I should have known the bloodtraitor screwing the mudblood wouldn't even make me fly."

I let go off the bat.

I watch as it sails down the path I aimed for. I'm not a beater for nothing I suppose. The sound of wood on skull echoes with great satisfaction. A couple people have their mouths covered by their hands. I'm smirking. I'm tired of this. But the people, their silent, and looking...behind me.

I turn around.

My grin falls.

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall."

She just looks at me. Arms folded. "Mr Baddock." She glances at the fourth year down on the ground and then at another Slytherin. "Best take him to the hospital wing." She turns to me. "Demonstrating on how a Beater uses a bat? If so, that certainly did not go well did it?" She says dryly.

"No, ma'am, it just slipped. Nervous habit to spin it like that. I really should probably work on that."

No expression from her. Nothing telling me what she thinks. Not unusual. You never can tell with the Headmistress. "Best get some slip resistant gloves as well. We wouldn't want another accident like that again."

I nod, "Good advice, Headmistress."

She steps closer to me, arms dropping and then speaks in a low tone. "Come to my office when your tryouts are done. The password is Lions, Snakes, Badgers, Ravens. We need to have a talk. Only reason I caught your slip. But I am sure I would have found out about it sooner or later." She turns and walks off.

Great.

"Seeker," I say to the new member of the team that's still conscious, "I expect to see you at practice." He nods numbly. Maybe fighting back can have its perks.

I retrieve my bat. Head back to the dungeons to put away my quidditch robes, broom, and I almost put away my bat, instead I tuck it into my normal robes. With a sigh I head back out and up the stairs. On my walk to the headmistress' office, I wonder where Natalie is. I just want the summer back, or for the hols to come. Anything to get out of here. Or just a little more time with her to myself. Lost in these thoughts, I almost past the gargoyles standing sentry at the entrance to the Headmistress' office. I stop before them.

Both Gargoyles stare at me. Then one speaks up, in a gravelly voice.

"Password, young Snake?"

The other Gargoyle snickers.

Oh right, password. "Snakes, Lions, Ravens, Badgers," I reply.

Both snicker.

"Try again." The one on the left gargles.

"Lions, Snakes, Ravens, Badgers."

One of the Gargoyles sighs. "First part right, young Snake."

"Students never remember."

"Oh come on!" I sigh when they just stare at me. Rubbing my forehead, I grumble out, "Lions, Snakes, Badgers, Ravens."

"Well, well. Got it right. How about that? Took you long enough, sonny." The door to the stairwell opens.

I step onto the stairs as it spirals upwards. I'm not sure why the headmistress was looking for me, but I'm sure it's more good news.

Finally the stair stop. I step to the door and knock.

"Enter, Mr Baddock." Her words are stiff, stern, even through a door. I'm not even going to wonder how she knows it me as I push the door open. I walk into the room, scanning the almost familiar surroundings. It's not like I haven't been here before, but I have to admit that Dumbledore sleeping behind the desk is still slightly disturbing.

I walk to the front of her desk and wait to see why she's called me here.

She looks at me for a moment, in her chair. "Sit down, Mr Baddock."

I sit in the hard, straight-backed chair in front her desk.

"I knew this was going to be an interesting year, when a couple weeks before school started I received an owl from the Ministry, informing me that a student who will be coming of age in just a few months time has run away from home and is living with another student. I did not think how interesting the year with this student would truly be until I received another owl concerning matters with him just this morning."

"Trust the Ministry to get things wrong, I did not run away, but I suppose that is besides the point."

She arches an eyebrow, and waves her wand to a piece of parchment lying on my desk and it hovers over to me. "I received this from your parents this morning. So did Gringotts as well."

I read over the letter, holding it up to my eye level. The words that pop out the most are cease, desist, and payment of tuition past one month, stick out the most. They signed it. Even the family lawyer signed it.

My mind flashes back to my nearly empty vault after having to buy all my school stuff on my own.

Well, looks like I'll get my wish of leaving Hogwarts early.

I'll just be homeless, looking for a job with only O.W.L. levels. All the while Natalie will be here for two years to finish her education. I keep the paper up, no longer reading, but my eyes are prickling, I know they're turning red. I close them, swallow the emotion down.

Breathe.

"That is not the only news I have received. I also received the news that the Hogwarts Governers and Narcissa Malfoy have reinstated an old scholarship that will be given to two students in Hogwarts in the second week of October. They have selected five students, three fifth years and two sixth years, and will wish to speak with them, and I am sure Narcissa Malfoy would like to as well, since this will be her scholarship she has worked out with the Governors. Out of those five, two will be chosen."

I fold the letter back down calmly and set it back down on her desk. "Should I take it that I will have the opportunity to speak with them?"

The Headmistress nods. She pushes her spectacles up. "Yes. They have also requested weekly reports on the students that were selected. Which of course will affect their decision making as well. Also Mrs Malfoy's too. I doubt she would want a scholarship she has worked hard to adjust and make fit in this school system go to a witch or wizard who cannot contain him or herself." She stares hard at me, capturing my attention instantly. "She would want it to go to the two that need and deserve it, as do the Governors. As do I."

And not to someone who slings his house mates into walls, not to mention throwing bats at their heads.

I nod my ascension, "That is understandable."

"As long as you understand Mr Baddock. I will not be telling them about your inability to keep your bat from slipping out of your hand during tryouts. After all they do not need to know about a simple accident now do they? But rest assured, any more of these accidents or slip ups and they will go into the weekly reports."

"No, ma'am," I reply, "thank you. I'll be sure to look into those gloves you suggested."

She looks like she wants to smile... I think. I wouldn't know. She just has this look. But in seconds it's gone. "You do that. Now best be on your way Mr Baddock. I have others to see. Also, I have been informed that Professor Kappa is impressed with your dedication in her class. Try to bring that to your others as well will you? They are just as important."

"Yes, headmistress," I say rising from my seat, "I'll do my best."

I bloody well have to it seems....

"And thank you, again," I say making my way to the exit.

A Night in Birmingham

Sun, 26 Aug 2007 01:43:14 GMT

“MUM! HAVE YOU SEEN MY PINK TOP?”

I only tense up a second. I’ll never get used to the yelling. Especially without repercussion. Especially when it’s Nat doing the yelling at her parents.

But her mum just yells back, “IT’S IN THE WASH.”

No malice, or cursing, or any future promise of pain or degradation.

Just what I always thought normal should be.

And I’m in the middle of it.

I belo--

Nat comes bouncing down the stairs. She couldn’t find pink so she went with sleeveless black. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, standard Chaser fair. Almost tomboyish. But my eyes trail from her ear, down her neck, and suddenly I’m looking away, shifting in my seat.

Ever since I got here (well, maybe a couple days after), I can’t keep my eyes off her. We hold hands sometimes, ever since Diagon Alley, sometimes when I make her laugh, her hand goes to my shoulder and she leans over me as she laughs. Here, with this, I am so comfortable.

I never want to lose this feeling.

Even if school starts soon and things will change, I don’t want to lose the first good thing to come into my life.

Though…we’re just friends. Right…?

"Ready?" she asks grinning impishly at me.

I rise from the sofa. Nat had been feeling cooped up, so she asked her parents, and we’re going out tonight.

We’re going out.

She tells me we’ll have fun.

“WE’LL BE BACK, MUM!”

“OK!”

I’m not used to it, but I could get there.

Trying to Find Home

Sat, 11 Aug 2007 05:21:31 GMT

When I got home last night, I was met at the door. Trunk in hand, my mother was there. She greeted me with six words.

“I will deal with you tomorrow.”

And with that, she went to bed.

After dad went to work this morning, I was stuck inside all day. My mother hasn’t said a word to me. All day.

Not that I’m really complaining.

Then dad got home. I could hear barely a mumble from downstairs, but my stomach is knotting up again.

Footsteps thud up the stairs to the rhythm of a dying man’s heart.

I think I should know what to expect. Dad will yell, maybe get rid of his frustrations through me. I’ll heal, I always do.

What I don’t expect is what happens:

The door opens slowly. Dad stands there framed, arms crossed, staring at me. His voice, when spoken, is cold. Harsh. Unemotional.

“You were trying to leave?”

I resolve myself. Years of this has gotten me good at that at least.

“Maybe.”

“So go.”

I stare at him. He’s serious.

I pick my still packed trunk up and go to walk past him. But he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

“You are a thief now?”

“What?” I ask.

“You didn’t buy any of that stuff. Yet you think you can take it from my house.”

I try to maneuver past him, but his hand closes around my neck.

His fist meets my temple first. Then my eye. Then my nose.

I stumble from his grip. My head burns, it spins, it lets instinct kick in and I draw my wand out. I point it towards him, but it’s ripped out of my hand.

“YOU’RE GOING TO ATTACK ME NOW?”

I hear a crack. Two splintered pieces of wood are thrown by my head.

“I bought that too.”

He walks over and kneels down.

“You leave, you do it with the clothes on your back.”

I start to rise. He stands before I do. He looks at me.

“Still want to leave?”

I walk out of the room. I hear him follow me. Probably making sure I won’t steal anything.

Walking down the stairs he sighs and says, “I wish you had never been born.”

I reply, “You are a real piece of shit, dad.”

His hand pushes my back hard and I take the rest of the stairs rolling. I hit the bottom in a collapsed thud.

He walks past my mother who is sitting in one of the entryway chairs.

I get to my feet. Pain twinges in my left knee, and it tries to give out with each limp of a step I take. But I get to, and open the door. I take one last look at her dressed in pure white, holding her champagne flute.

I start to stagger away when I hear her say, “Malcolm?”

I stop and turn. “Yes?”

“Do consider changing your last name.”

And with that I walk away from the house that was never a home.

Finding Solace in Ink

Sun, 05 Aug 2007 20:39:41 GMT

With a shaky hand I grab my quill. I dip it into the ink bottle, but my arm gives a more violent shudder and I tip the bottle over.

With a curse I set it back up and clean up the mess. I redip my nib and let my hand hover over the parchment.

With a sigh that makes my free arm clutch my midsection, I write down the only name connected to the only face that I wish I could see right now.

Natalie,

How’re things there? They’re pretty boring here, as per usual.

“Malcolm, straighten your robes. You are representing the Baddock name at tonight’s dinner. What you do, who you are, how you act, how you appear will all directly affect your father and me.”

I’ve heard this speech all my life. You are your name, live up to who you can be. Blah, blah, blah. Make us proud.

My parents gave me life, and now they have raised and trained me to have their lives.

I got my O.W.L. results earlier. All Os with the exception of two EEs. That, and the inclusion of two badges, my father was impressed. He even gave me a present or two.

“You just couldn’t do it could you? You couldn’t try your hardest. Or fulfill your potential. You’re such a disappointment. Get out of my sight.”

He downs another glass of firewhiskey. Burning away the retched disappointment it must be to have me as a son. I start walking away, anger welled up inside me. To the breaking point, I do not even think when I say, “I learned from the best.”

“What did you say to me?”

I stop and turn around. I know where this is going, but I can not stop the words from dripping off my tongue. “Disappointment is our true family tradition.”

He’s on me in seconds. His fists clutching the front of my shirt, pulling me in towards his alcohol laden breath, his breath hot on my face as he says, “Say it again.”

“You and mum always say you want me to live up to my name, but no matter how big of a disappointment I am, I’ll never fill your shoes.”

His knuckles connect with my jaw, and I’m on the floor, blood pooling in my mouth, dripping down my lip.

“You are a failure,” he hisses as he kicks the air out of my lungs. “You must be more perfect,” he says kicking harder. He keeps talking, but I can’t understand his words any longer. Each sentence is punctuated with a kick. Pain spreads from my side to my front, to my back, wrapping around me.

When he is finally done, he retires to his room. I’m left, breathing hurts, moving hurts, but I am not going to sleep on the kitchen floor. I drag myself up and even if the five minute trip upstairs takes me an hour, I still get there.

I’ve even been practicing some spellwork over the hols. It must suck to not be able to do anything until we get back to Hogwarts.

First I clean the blood from my face and mend my busted lip. It’s not perfect, but it looks like a four day old wound rather than a 4 hour old one. But holding my arm up reminds me of my ribs. Slowly I manage to get my shirt off and look at myself in the mirror.

Purple and black spreads around my whole side. If I could twist to see behind me, I’m sure it spreads there too.

My hand moves down to press gently to inspect the damage. Immediately I wince. A couple of them must be broken.

I aim my wand as best as I can and try to mend them. Feeling slightly better, I sit at my desk. I need to talk to my only friend.

Anyway, I hope you’re having a good summer. Look forward to hearing from you.

Yours,

I stare at the word. It’s funny how it is really. Do I mean ‘your friend’? Natalie is my only friend really. At least the only one I really count.

Yet three years ago I was calling her mudblood. My father’s words spilling out of my mouth. Then that summer dad really started in on me about becoming the best I could be. I was never good enough for them, but then it was something punishable.

All his little preaching started to make less and less sense.

They wanted me to be perfect. Find a pureblood. Live the life they wanted to give me. Be who I’m not.

Then I started to notice other things about Natalie. All of 4th year I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. I saw how she was just like me…not tainted like I was always told. Actually, in ways, she was better than me. When she was with her friends, she smiled. Really smiled. And laughed. She had something…I wanted.

And I wasn’t the only one taking notice of her. One day I saw a couple of my older dorm mates cornering her in one of the dungeon passageways. My stomach churned at the thought of what they had in mind. And I stepped in.

They weren’t the brightest pair, so it didn’t take many curses and hexes to get them to back off. Ever since, Nat and I were friends.

Then my parents heard how I was becoming not only their failure and disappointment, but also their bloodtraitor.

And things got worse.

I stare at the last word I’ve written and realize, it has been worth every minute of it.

Mal