michelle (concentrating) wrote in caged, @ 2013-10-11 18:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 97-10, [ log ], morag macdougal, padma patil |
WHO: Padma Patil and Morag MacDougal
WHEN: 11 October, evening.
WHERE: Their Dormitory.
SUMMARY: Unexpected feels.
STATUS: Complete.
Morag threw open the door to her dormitory and, seeing it empty, proceeded to throw her books, one unwieldy tome at a time, in the direction of her trunk. They made a satisfactory clatter as the pages ruffled and the covers thwacked against the side of the battered trunk that had no doubt suffered similar abuse at the hands of three generations of MacDougals before Morag.
But it didn’t make her feel any better.
She didn’t feel like reading, hadn’t felt like eating dinner, and there was nothing sweet to be had in her tiny stash of snacks. A cursory poke around her tea things confirmed that she was in fact without even this most basic of provisions, and it didn’t matter that soon they’d have a Hogsmeade weekend. Morag hadn’t any money to buy more.
Her howl of frustration was cut short by Padma, who had been concealed behind the curtains of her bed, a quill in her hand, sugar quill in her mouth, and some parchment in her lap.
Clearing her throat, Padma set the parchment aside and put a hold on her sugar-fix. It was rude to talk with a full mouth.
“Biscuit?” she queried hesitantly, wondering what it was, exactly, that had Morag in a sour mood. Morag wasn’t pleasant even at her best, but Padma had always found her to be endearing. A lot to handle, but a good friend none-the-less. “Mother owled Parvati and I quite a lot last week, and I still haven’t been able to get through them all.”
“Fuck, yes,” Morag’s curse escaped her like a sigh, but she bent to recover her books from the floor before sitting on the edge of her own unmade bed to wait for Padma to retrieve the biscuits. She didn’t make a habit of being a complete monster when her dormmates were around, even Lisa, who could be incredibly trying. It was one thing to alienate most of the rest of the school… it was another to make the people who regularly saw you in your shabby pajamas uncomfortable.
“Sorry about the… noise.”
Rolling and reaching, Padma omitted the use of her legs while she reached out for her trunk. She made a strained huff and she clicked it open with the tips of her fingers. Reaching inside, she pulled out her bag of biscuits, and tossed it to Morag. “They’re chocolate chip. As good as her baking is, chocolate isn’t my favourite sweet.”
Kicking her curtains further back, she perched herself on the edge of her bed, the letter she was writing temporarily forgotten about. “Think nothing of it. The new Prefect’s Lounge has a soundproof room. I’ve already screeched in it a couple of times.”
Morag smirked, her temper softened slightly with the sugar and the idea of Padma screeching where no one could hear her.
“Soundproof, eh? And they expect Prefects not to abuse that?”
She wasn’t thinking of venting frustration, not exactly. But Morag’s enjoyment of her own joke was short-lived, wondering what Seamus might do in a soundproofed lounge.
Seamus.
She savaged a second biscuit.
Padma gave a laugh that was a little too chirpy. It rapidly dissolved into short, breathy giggles, and she wondered if Morag could see (or cared) about the blush that was creeping up into her cheeks.
“Yes, well. I should have clarified. It isn’t for all of the Prefects to use. They hand selected a few of us who have been doing a good job. It’s an incentive to keep doing a good job. She sucked on her quill contemplatively, her nose wrinkling as she wondered, just briefly, if Parvati would be able to find her way into the Carrows’ good graces,
Morag noted the blush, wondering if perhaps Padma had been holding out on her, but thought better of prying into the other girl’s personal life. Divulging intimate details was something she expected Padma did with her sister, and something Morag didn’t do with anybody.
She threw herself back against the pillows at the head of her bed.
“They’re probably watching, in that case,” Morag replied with a grimace. “Who else is allowed in? Don’t tell me you have to make nice with Avery and Parkinson all the time.”
“I don’t think anyone would be willing to sacrifice their badges for the sake of-- well, I’m sure you know.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. It had always been a rule that she thought was ridiculous. Adolescents were going to find a way to do as they pleased. Hogwarts should have promoted contraceptive potions rather than abstinence. Alas, Padma was lucky in that Zacharias had no access to the Prefect’s Lounge, lest she be even more tempted than she already was.
“Ah…. All of Slytherin’s prefects, June Chambers, Joey Cresswell, Ruby Wood, and myself. Ernie didn’t even make it in.” She wondered if she could speak in confidence with Morag, and tell her how saddened she was that so many of her kind hadn’t ‘made the cut.’ Opting against it, she shrugged her shoulders. “It is easy enough to feign interest when it’s required. Regina and I try to avoid each other as best we can.”
“I bet that really burned him up,” Morag muttered, imagining the self-important Hufflepuff receiving the devastating blow that nevertheless left his ego intact. Still, Ernie wasn’t all bad, especially not in comparison with some others.
Morag cut her eyes at Padma, remembering a recent evening when she’d sat up reading by the fire in the common room and noted Padma returning, presumably from rounds, looking decidedly unkempt. Her tone was leading, when next she spoke.
“You sure there’s nobody worth risking your badge over?”
“It will serve as a good motivator, which is, I’m sure, what the Carrows wanted. They have coffee in the lounge, Morag. Coffee.” And yes, it did still feel a little wrong to be indulging in something that symbolised corruption and bribery, but if she was going to put herself through this, didn’t she deserve a little treat in return? She felt guilty just for thinking about it.
Her eyebrows rose for a moment, and she couldn’t catch the fleeting look of shock and worry that crossed her face before she collected herself.
“Yes.” Deadbeat. “I’m very sure there is no one worth losing my badge over, Morag.” And honestly, she meant it, at least insofar as Zacharias went.
Well, there was clearly more to that story. Morag leveled her gaze on Padma, her own problems feeling momentarily easier to bear in thinking that Padma, who for all outward appearances seemed to have absolutely everything going for for her and everything together, might also be in the shit.
“Well, if I had to choose between coffee and sex I’d probably choose coffee, too,” she said dryly, and she supposed it was even true, given her one miserable experience with the latter.
“Of the two, coffee is more likely to keep me up all night,” she replied honestly, albeit a little shyly. It wasn’t that it was an embarrassing topic, or shameful, but Padma wasn’t usually keen with sharing tidbits like this so brazenly and openly.
“Anyway, what’s got you in a tuff?” she asked, hoping to get as far away from that topic as possible.
Morag snorted appreciatively at Padma’s honesty, but her laughter faded as she considered her question.
“What doesn’t?” She answered, but even her dodge of a real answer was half-hearted. Anger Morag could manage, it was familiar and comfortable and easy to take out on inanimate objects… and other people. But anytime her anger faded she just felt sour and sorry for herself, wanted to leave last night’s Astronomy lesson over again and do things differently.
Whether Morag would never have stopped to talk to Magnus and avoided him and Seamus both, or whether her walk back to Ravenclaw tower with the Gryffindor would’ve ended differently… she didn’t know.
Morag reached for another biscuit.
“Do you ever wish you’d already graduated? That you’re older and all of the stupid shite we put up with, being under somebody else’s thumb, following rules, never saying the right thing, that it’s over?”
Padma tensed as she felt the air suddenly shift. Padma didn’t frequently have heart to hearts with anybody. As much as she had aimed to be a people person, she was a much better listener than she was at reciprocating. Her mouth hung open for a moment as she averted her gaze, thinking about all of the things that were, but didn’t have to be, if she were already out of Hogwarts. She tried to come off as pensive, came off as anything but.
Padma was sad. She was sad and exhausted. She didn’t want to have to put up a farce when she would rather have ended her seventh year so much more differently than it looked like it was going to. She knew that in the long run, it wasn’t likely that she would have been remembered by her peers anyway. She was no Parvati, or Lavender. But what if she was remembered for the awful things that she had to parrot this year?
Clearing her throat, she nodded and looked at the floor. “I do. Of course I do.” Her eyebrows knitted together, and any sign of melancholy was gone. “You know, I really should- I have a letter to write.”
Morag only nodded, rolling over onto her side and putting her back to Padma. Unlike the hint she’d probably imagined earlier, Padma’s admission didn’t make Morag feel any less alone.