Day 16: Thoughts

Grasping her key, Margaret appeared in her bed; she laid in silence for a while, staring blankly at the ceiling, arms limp, head full of thoughts.
She sighed, yawned and stretched, feeling her body call for exertion, feeling her mind call for distraction.
Opening the curtains, she noticed a piece of paper on her bedside table, a note from Professor Fig.
"Dear Margaret, it seems there was a terrible misunderstanding, I guess I didn't make myself clear: I was actually expecting to meet you for an exciting adventure out in the Highlands; I hear you visited your family, I hope you had a pleasant time. I will make sure there will be no misunderstanding next time."
"Pleasant time..." the girl chuckled and rolled her eyes before placing the note inside the drawer.
Glancing around the room, she noticed a familiar house elf busy making beds; reaching inside her pocket she produced one of her mother's orange candies and called.
"Mopey?"
The elf yelped in surprise before answering. "Y-yes Miss Margaret Megamelons?" she approached carefully, her frail frame and body language emphasizing her large moist eyes.
"Could you give me your... Opinion on this candy? My mother is experimenting again." lied Margaret, opening her palm to present a single orange orb delicately wrapped; she was used to tricking elves in order to please them.
"Of course Miss Margaret Megamelons..." she said as she carefully picked the candy, doing her best not to brush against the girl's hand.
The elf placed the candy in front of her face to inspect it closely and marveled at the craftsmanship: Bright orange in colour, a testament to its orange taste, the orb was semi-transparent and carved in a billywig motif. Mopey placed the candy in her mouth, hummed in pleasure at the sudden rush of sweet and sour flavour, raising her head and closing her eyes as if she had grown wings and could fly away, wish she did, for a few centimeters.
"Oh! Heeheehee! Mopey is floating!" laughed the frail creature. "And what a taste!"
"My mother wanted to replicate Fizzing Whizzbees without including Billywigs in the recipe. I'm glad you like it." said Margaret.
The elf continued to giggle until the effect wore off and she landed clumsily with a loud thud.
"Mopey likes it very much Miss Margaret Megamelons!"
Both of them knew this was nothing but a facade, but the elf couldn't accept a gift if she didn't at least pretend to not realize.
"Mhm. Haveaniceday." mumbled the girl as she left the dormitories; the elf flinched at her politeness.

Bolting through the castle, Margaret made her way towards the lake, well intent on salvaging her night by exhausting her body, earning herself a few stares along the way as she jumped down stairs rather than push past slower students.
The beach was thankfully empty, most students were either still busy with afternoon activities or already loitering in the Great Hall, anticipating supper; Margaret was alone with the dugbogs and the flobberwoms.
Taking a moment to appreciate the calm, she sat down on the pier and took her robes, shoes and socks off, letting her feet dip in the cold water as she stared blankly, losing herself in thought as her magic ran wild and formed water creatures.

"I didn't expect to find you here, Megamelons!" said a familiar voice, Sebastian's.
The girl jumped, glared in his direction without looking at him and resumed her blank staring without a word.
"Where's your friend today?" asked the boy, hands in his pockets and looking at the setting sun, trying to not to stare at her body.
"Oh... I get it. Because I don't have friends. Clever." she chuckled, not even bothering to stop staring.
Looking shocked, the boy stammered. "W-what? No... I..."
"Whatever." she interrupted.
"Ahem... Those... Are... Really impressive." Sebastian pointed at an overly frilly carp swimming through the air gracefully. "I meant to ask? How are you this good at magic? I see you swim but I don't see you practice."
"It makes sense." she raised her hand, inviting the water fish to swirl around her wrist. "I don't really know. It makes sense."
Noticing his stare, she remembered what her father mentioned.
"I talked about your sister's condition to my father, he said my uncle Arthur or his wife could help."
"Of course they could, like the dozens of useless healers I dragged and begged." he retorted.
"He's a cursebreaker specialized in forgotten Dark Arts, actually."
His interest piqued, the boy's eyes lit up.
"Arthur Megamelons, you say?" he said, as he scratched his head.
"No... Just Arthur, I don't know his last name, he lost it when he married his wife. She's a mermaid, it's forbidden by the family."
"That sounds... Harsh." said Sebastian as he sat down next to her, making her move further to the side.
"It's fair, he's not shunned or anything, he lost the family name and rights. He's popular in the family. So is his wife. We have rules and we know them." she started biting the sides of her right index.
"Like what? What rules?" he asked.
"Among similar minor infractions are... Marrying outside of your race, species or blood status, squibs excluded... Oh, it's not an infraction but women do not take their husband's last name, they take ours." she pushed her thumb nail hard against her chin, still staring.
"You big Pureblood families are complicated..." he sighed.
Margaret shrugged, unconvinced.
"So does that mean if I were to marry you...That would make me Sebastian Megamelons?" he erupted in laughter.
She clicked her tongue.
"Don't be ridiculous." she hissed before diving in the water.
"...You're a stone cold fox, Margaret." he sighed.

She felt the water rush past her, brushing her skin with its sharp, cold bite; another cold bite filled her heart: a mix of disgust towards the boy's silliness, towards herself, knowing exactly how it would all end.
Diving deeper and deeper, she pictured it clearly, as she often did: alone, forgotten, dying. Smiling; the world finally rid of the abomination that she is.
Why would he, even as a joke, suggest something so abhorrent? She couldn't allow it, for once she wanted to be selfish and grant her own wish.
She felt magic tingling in her fingers as she swam deeper and deeper and deeper, and her surroundings got darker, surrounding her with nothing but blackness, her own voice whispering in her ears a very simple solution to all her troubles; she wouldn't have to die, and she was well practiced... No, her passing would only be a fair punishment for her sins, for robbing innocents of so many good things.
She pictured the other castle, the smiling faces of her classmates and mentor filled her with disgust, her heart felt like it was being crushed.
"Maybe it's not even another chance? Maybe it's a punishment. Having to go through it all twice... What if it lasts more than seven years..."
"Why..."
She could stay here, just for a little while... She didn't give them a week to forget all about her, and the Grindylows would have a feast.
"It's too much trouble..." she thought, slowly swimming back up.
"Sebastian would know, he would talk... They would bother the lake..."
Little by little, the darkness lit up as she approached the surface.
"I have to keep appearances... I have to fit in... Until they forget on their own..."
Feeling the cold breeze hitting her wet face and filling her lungs with fresh hair, she laughed.
"Too bad I can't trade places with Anne. I'm wasting it all." she thought.
Glancing at the pier, she noticed Sebastian was gone, almost halfway up the hill back to the castle. She laughed.
"Let's get into trouble tonight. As a treat."

She exercised until she couldn't anymore, well past nightfall, and walked back to the castle under the light of her patronus, walking by her side.
No one noticed.
Quietly entering the Gryffindor Common Room, she walked back to her bed, making sure not to bother anyone, before laying down, exhausted, ready to fall asleep and wishing she wouldn't wake up somewhere else.
The man stumbled out of the doctor's office, holding his chest and coughing in pain.
The man buries his friend, and another one, and another one.
The man washes up on a shore, the bright sun burning his skin, he can only taste salt and blood.
He's cold, he falls asleep, forever. She's cold, she's awake, once more.

Eyes half closed, Margaret sighed and stretched, her sight and mind too foggy to notice anything but the stone dormitories of the XXIst century castle: the windows were closed and it was still dark, but something felt cold, unnaturally so, and slowly spreading through her otherwise comfortable body.
"Again..?" She closed her eyes again.
The ghastly presence embraced her tightly, she felt icy cold droplets hitting her forehead as it rested her head against its bosom and caressed her cheeks; the freezing cold, the dread, the despair, all of it slowly spread through her body.
"Is this what it feels like to be dead..? This isn't a punishment... Are you trying to possess me? Go ahead, you will regret it..."
As if it read her thoughts, the ghost sobbed and hugged her head tighter.
Clenching her eyelids, she held back tears.
"You're supposed to forget me... Leave... Leave me alone..." she screamed in her mind, her body growing numb.
Soon enough, her consciousness faded, lulled to sleep by the caring, motherly presence.

Warm sunlight, the distant chirping of birds and a not-so-subtle nudge from her augurey roused Margaret from her slumber; she rubbed her eyes, yawned and stretched before checking her watch and her schedule.
Glaring, she slowly made her way to the Divination classroom, expecting another bore, another class with group assignments and most likely another detention.
Reaching the North Tower, Margaret looked around for the classroom, she grimaced when she realized she had to climb a ladder again.
"Is this some sort of tradition..?"
Opening the door, her nostrils were assaulted by the pungent smell of musty fabric, tea, incense and candles, she covered her nose and walked in, feeling sick. The classroom was well lit, warm and furnished enough that she wouldn't have to suffer echo, she sighed in relief, though she couldn't help but worry about falling asleep in such a comfortable but garish atmosphere: it looked like a mix of Madam Puddifoot's Teashop, a Romani wagon and an amphitheater.
"Welcome, welcome, my child..." beckoned an odd looking blonde witch while adjusting her glasses to take a better look at the girl.
"Ah... Yes... This meeting was fated, my child." she added, grasping Margaret's hand and shoulder, much to her discomfort.
"Yes, Divination Class, today, it's in my schedule." answered the girl bluntly.
"You are correct, my child... What is your name?"
"Margaret Megamelons."
The woman nodded and stared at her, attempting to make eye contact through her oddly magnifying glasses, hunting the girl's eyes fruitlessly.
"I see you are quite the troubled soul, my child."
"You're not my mother, I'm not your child." she forced herself out of the teacher's grasp and sat down in a corner, under the woman's bewildered gaze.

"Welcome, children, welcome..." declared Professor Trelawney, carefully staring at every student.
"Today might be our first encounter, but I feel like some of you I've known forever..." she added in her trademark low breathy voice; her audience wasn't impressed.
"I feel... I feel we should do something... Unusual!" she transfigured the teacup on her desk into a white rat.
"How many of you children know about the arcane art of Myology?" she added, carefully watching the rodent climb up her arm.
A few faces lit up at the cute creature, while some recoiled in disgust, but most kept chatting and ignoring the professor.
"Myology..? Are you kidding me?" Margaret rolled her eyes and chuckled.

Forming duos, Professor Trelawney untransfigured the teacups one by one, ever so slowly creeping towards Margaret, who was sighing in relief upon realizing the odd number of students would leave her without a partner, her hopes were quickly shattered when the seer sat down in front of her with a gentle smile, staring at her for too long before untransfiguring her teacup into... A brown rat.
She clicked her tongue.
"Something wrong, dear?" asked the woman.
She shook her head dismissively and waved her fingers at the rodent, who was now sniffing them; the curious creature couldn't resist her charms and quickly climbed in the palm of her hand.
"What does the rat tell you, my child?"
The girl attempted to speak but couldn't, she stared at the animal, feeling a twinge in her heart as it grasped her fingers and sniffed in her direction.
Professor Trelawney grasped her free hand, attempting to reassure her.
"She... It's... Telling me not to give up. To keep going no matter what happens, no matter what I feel. That... Pain is proof that I'm alive..." said Margaret, staring at the rat but unable to look into its eyes.
Masking a surprised sob behind an exclamation, the professor tapped the back of the girl's hand.
"D-does it..?" she pressed for more.
"It says... Night and day, dark and light, sun and rain, sadness and happiness, all of them make a whole... That couldn't... Work without the other half."
"Mhm" nodded the woman, looking like she was holding back tears.

After what felt like a long interrogation, of mostly made up nonsense, Professor Trelawney gathered the rats and unveiled a crystal ball.
"Now children, I offer you a glimpse... Into yourself..!" she said as she beckoned the students, urging them to form a line.
"What now..?" grumbled an auburn haired boy.
"Perhaps you are not ready to see what you would be if you were to become an animagus, young boy?" she pointed menacingly.
The boy shrunk back into his seat, much to the laughter of his friends, Margaret recognized a few of them.
Stepping forward, the beret wearing girl sat down with a determined look on her face.
"Very good, my child, now focus your attention to the moving shadows, to the swirling mist... What do you see..?"
"I see... A butterfly?!" she almost screamed in joy.
"Focus, miss..?"
"Lottie Turner... Sorry..." she squinted at the moving silhouette, her smile slowly fading.
"No... It's too fast...A golden snitch? But it's not an animal... A hummingbird!"
"Ah... Yes... Very good Miss Turner... But be aware that fate is a fickle thing, perhaps you will be the butterfly you so desire..." said the professor, grasping the girl's hand and patting it.

One by one, students pondered the orb, some couldn't see anything, some saw unpleasant things; an especially fashionable girl pushed the crystal ball off the table when she saw a walrus. The classroom emptied slowly as they were allowed to leave after the peering, until only Margaret remained, too conflicted to leave but reticent to interact with the creepy woman again.
"Ahaaa yes... Come, child." beckoned the enthusiastic seer.
Sitting wordlessly, the girl glared at the orb, trying to make sense of the spiralling shapes: a powerful slender body... Four legs... Sligthly triangular rounded ears... A tail...
"Some sort of feline?" she mumbled at her nodding professor.
A few smaller but similar shapes appeared around the feline, along with a larger one, with a thick mane, becoming clearer and clearer, the image gained colour and detail until it was perfect.
"A...white lioness..?" she said, quizzically.
"...Really..?" she thought.
"My child, you are truly gifted... A Gryffindor Lioness... She represents independence, confidence and control, you are quiet... And powerful... Loyal, passionate, with a strong protective motherly instinct... It is not by chance that they represent pride." she attempted to grasp her hand again, Margaret quickly took it off the table before chuckling dismissively.
"But... My patronus is a thestral, not a lioness... Aren't they supposed to be the same..?" asked the girl.
"Hmm... Fate... has its ways."
"Sure." answered the girl, while packing her belongings.
"Have you... Perhaps... Been having... Dreams?" asked Professor Trelawney, patting the seat invitingly.
"Everyone does. Unless they have insomnia." she retorted.
"Different dreams... More vivid but not quite lucid, showing you thinks you don't know but feel like you know..?" asked the woman, her eyes turned white.
"I do." she answered, still packing.
"A man I don't know. I feel like... I have to do something. To him. For him. He needs my help, but I don't know who he is, where he is, what he looks like. I... feel him."
"You have a gift... Nurture it and perhaps you will be able to do what you are meant to." the woman's voiced sounded raspy.
"I don't believe in Divination." Margaret walked past the woman.
"Oh but you do, my child... You do..." she watched the girl slide down the ladder, shaking her head.
"A thestral patronus, at her age..? Oh Merlin..." she thought, almost sipping a cup of rat while feeling a mix of sadness and admiration.

"A Belgian. Gryffindor. Lioness. Is this some sort of joke?" thought Margaret, chuckling, as she walked towards the lake once more. "Thinking about it, it is convenient... Having two selves..."
Attempting to look at the bright side, she briskly made her way towards her cherished beach, her mind and heart painfully filled with wandering thoughts, like a swarm of whispering howlers, until a loud splash chased them away: she was where she was meant to be, swimming in the lake, feeling the warm embrace of the sun and the sharp bite of the cold waters, focusing on her body and silencing everything else.

Ticking menacingly in her robes, the hands of her watch slowly approached the alarm she had set: detention with Lottie.