Another day; gone. How come it was taking so long for her hand to heal? It still ached with pain, yet she had been taking that horrid potion for 48 hours, and Madam Pomfrey had been giving her endless attention. She did nothing but rest and do homework that she was falling behind on. And yet she wasnt permitted to leave. Usually, by now, weren't the patients released? Meril glanced towards the poor first year and sighed; well, expect for cases like hers, weren't people normally gone by the second day?
Frowning, she reached towards her nightstand and grabbed the letter. Adalmund. The name was as elusive as the swan, possibly even more so. They were both so familiar, and yet Meril could not, for the life of her, think of why. She opened the elegant piece of parchment once again, her eyes flickering over the words. She had already memorized it from reading it so much, searching for some hidden answers in the tight scrawl. Much to her disappointment, nothing was revealed to her any of the times she read it. It was a letter; just a simple letter.
The brunette blew her bangs irritably, throwing the letter back down beside the miniature Quidditch pitch. She was getting cranky, cooped up in the Hospital Wing. She couldn't move, she couldn't have fun; nothing. She was just...stuck there. Her legs were getting antsy and hr breathing was becoming shallow. Sometimes it seemed as if the walls were closing in on her and the blankets were tightening around her thin body.
"I hate hospitals," she gasped, sitting up. Her breathing was constricted again. She struggled to release herself from the crisp white sheets. Her arms flailed and her legs were kicking; she nearly knocked over the water pitcher placed at the foot of her bed.
"I'll help you break out later, Ezmie," Meril, using the nickname she had given the ever-sleeping girl, whispered; of course, the fever-stricken child made no reaction except to give a little squeak and turn over restlessly.
"I know how feel," Meril said, nodding solemnly. She glanced towards the nurse's over and noted with a smile that Madam Pomfrey was busy. As quietly as she could, she crept past the open-doored office, pulled the Hospital Wing door open, and slipped out into the empty corridor. Empty...she hadn't been expecting it, but it worked fine for her. Certainly made getting around a whole lot easier, though highly suspicious. What would the professors say if they saw a student wandering around during class time? She glanced down at her attire; a long-sleeve, navy-blue shirt and blue and white plaid shorts. It wasn't exactly "school appropriate" and she had a feeling that, if she didn't get in trouble for sneaking out of the Hospital Wing (for surely the teachers all knew that that was where she was supposed to be) than she would get in trouble for wandering around in her pajamas, her feet entirely bare.
Feeling quite jittery all of a sudden, she moved down the halls on the alert. She had just been to detention and ended up being banned from the library--if she had to have another detention; she shuddered to think about what could happen. Her hand gave another pang; instinctively, she jerked it up towards her chest, cradling it as she walked silently along, turning every once in a while. She didn't know exactly where she was going, just that she was getting as far away from the Hospital Wing as she--
"Bloody hell!" she swore, stamping her foot down. She must have taken one-too many left turns because she was right where she had started--the closed Hospital Wing door. She wondered momentarily whether Madam Pomfrey had realized that she was missing yet. Guilt began to find its way into her, crawling up her spine all the way to her shoulder. She brushed it off before it could get any further and hurried back the way she had come. Her feet pattered loudly on the cold cobblestone. She thought she saw people glance out open doorways at her as she whizzed past.
"I say, what are you doing?!" one painting insisted as she made her way down the stairs.
"Walking," Meril pleasantly replied.
"Are those your clothes? I thought you were supposed to wear uniforms? I do say, this school has become quite lax about the dress code! In my day--"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure everyone was an angel and followed every single rule. No one would ever be obnoxious or cause trouble, or even escape from the Hospital Wing! No, no, they all sat around like boring lumps doing work twenty-four-seven."
"Well I never!" the painting huffed, looking indignantly.
"And now you have. Good day!"
The brunette continued on her way down the stairs, ignoring the hum in her ears as the paintings that surrounded her whispered.
"My dear, did I hear you say you broke out of the Hospital Wing?" one bold painting called, jogging alongside of her.
Does this staircase never end?! she shrieked in her head.
"Err...yes?" she replied, sorting herself out.
"Well whatever for?!"
"Err...fresh air? Freedom?"
"Well I don't see why you can't--"
"Bye!" Meril said loudly. She hopped off the stairs, waving lazily at the paintings, most of which had crammed themselves into the last, tiny frame at the edge of the stairs.
The tall Entrance Doors loomed before her. She smiled; it had been so long since she had seen them. So very long...
She quickened her pace, suddenly excited to get a breath of fresh air. It wasnt natural for her to be cooped up for so long; and in a hospital no less! They might as well have sentenced her to death!
Her hand closed around the handle; the metal was cool to touch. Meril smiled widely and gave the door a tug. Fresh air flew into the castle. It was cool and crisp in a way that only late September air could be. The doors opened the rest of the way and Meril stood in the middle of them, a tiny, insignificant wafer in the immense doorway. The sun poured down onto her, filling her with immense warmth and then--
The smile fell from her face; she shivered and shook despite the sunlight she stood in. Her mind was filled with flashes of her worst memories. A green light flashed, over and over, until she couldn't take it anymore. Her insides had hardened and cooled. Her heart felt heavy in her chest. Subconsciously, she clawed at her chest. Maybe, if she could just rip her heart out, she wouldn't have to feel it anymore.
She fell to her knees, still tearing at her chest with her nails. The cold was getting closer, and she was getting more and more miserable. She heard screams--her own, younger screams. She could see her father's wiry body fall to the floor, motionless. His killer stared for a moment and swept off, leaving the front door wide open.
Her screams filled her mind; she wasn't even sure anymore whether they were from the past and the present; it didn't really matter. Her father was dead; killed; murdered. And by his own colleague! A man Meril had seen many times before, even liked! She screamed, her salty tears pouring into her mouth. She knelt by her father; his eyes had lost their sparkle. Meril gasped and stumbled backwards. She was choking; she couldn't breath. She tore at her throat and ran outside, her tiny, six-year-old legs carrying her as far and fast as they could. She needed to find that man! She would kill him; she would!
Her heart was pounding in her chest; she thought it might explode. Her feet was sore and bleeding from all the rocks she had stepped on, chasing that man, and yet, he wasn't there. She told herself he would be just around the corner; he couldn't have gotten that far. She would punch him and kick him for what he did to her dad.
Her dad....
She stopped abruptly, tears spilling down her once-shining face. Her tiny shoulders heaved and she fell to the ground, crumpled, defeated.
"Daddy!" she wailed, choking on her own air.
"Daddy," she croaked. Her eyes shot open, a fresh bout of tears glimmering on the surface. Her anguish was still weighing down on her chest, but she forced herself to stand. She was not going to sit there sobbing like a baby. She never did that; that wasnt her. And her dad wouldn't like it. He would want to see his beautiful smiling daughter, so bouncy and full of life.
Her legs shook and her knees buckled, but she managed to pull the doors closed, shutting the despair outside with the fresh air. She was covered in a cold sweat as she turned back around; the portraits were all staring at her. She blinked back at them before shaking her head and walking away. She did hope that no one heard her. They'd probably think Sirius Black and broken into the castle and murdered someone. Then a search would begin, and, well...it wouldn't be terribly pleasant. However, it couldn't be any worse than what would happen if someone had heard her scream and also seen her. She'd probably be rushed off to St. Mungo's, and straight after she came back, she'd be thrown ten detentions.
She sighed and continued to walk. She could still feel herself shaking and the green flash of light kept going off in her mind. Her head throbbed in sync with her hand; she blinked rapidly, hoping to rid herself of the memories.
It didn't work.
It never did.
She didn't even care where she was going; just that she continued to move. If she didn't keep moving, she would probably just break down in cry--something she never used to do but seemed to have taken a great liking to recently.
I'm such a cry-baby, she groaned inside her head; the flashing green light momentarily ceased. All I seem to do now is cry. On the train, in class, getting hit by the bludger, the Hospital Wing. There, here; then, now. Everywhere I go. I think I might be emotionally disturbed.
She cracked a smile at the thought. Anyway she looked at it, there was St. Mungo's, looming in front of her. It was her future, it seemed. She would be headed straight for the Mental Ward.
It was thoughts like these, thoughts that disturbed yet amused her, that got Meril to where she was headed (although she didn't know it) without any more dreadful thoughts or noticeable throbs of pain. The only pain she did notice was the one in her stomach; she hadnt eaten properly since Saturday morning. Another thing about Hospitals she hated--the food absolutely sucked. Even Hogwarts food was terrible there. Maybe it was because there wasnt enough, or maybe just everything else tainted the food, but Meril could not get a proper meal when she was in there.
Which was why it was so convenient (and ironic)that she ended up where she did. The painting was enormous. Meril stared at the painting hungrily for a few moments before remembering how to get in. She reached up, tickled the pear, and the painting swung forward, revealing a gigantic kitchen swarming with house elves.
"Good morning, miss!" they squeaked in unison as the painting swung shot. Meril grinned uneasily; those big eyes unnerved her.
"Hello!" Her smile widened as she plopped down at one of the tables. House elves came rushing up to her, platters at the ready. The pajama-clad girl happily accepted everything they brought her.
"Thanks!" She swallowed the last bit of her sandwich and moved onto the treacle tart. A handful of elves stood around her, their tennis-ball eyes wide as they watched her eat, savoring each second of her pleasure. After all, if as a house-elves greatest desire to please those that they served.
"You sure know what you're doing, don't you guys? This food is amazing. I don't know how I'll survive when I go back home! Don't tell her I said this, but my mom's cooking is nothing compared to Hogwarts food!"
The elves beamed, bowed, and curtsied at the fourteen-year old, their eyes never leaving her chocolate-stained face. Meril, growing disconcerted, looked away, smiling unsurely, and continued her feast. Her stomach was slowly filling, making her smile happily. As long as she had good food and decent company, she was content.
Meril chugged her pumpkin juice, absolutely parched after the sweet dessert. An elf scurried forward and refilled her empty glass.
"Thanks," the teen said sweetly. She drank this more slowly now, watching the elves, who hovered by her side in anticipation, out of the corner of her eye.
Thank Merlin's dirty knickers Mam decided against getting a house-elf, she thought with a slight shudder, closing her eyes to escape their eager gazes. Bloody useful, but.... She shuddered again.
The kitchen door/painting opened again and two very familiar voices came floating into the room.
"Did you hear? Lunch is late," one said.
"That's odd. The house-elves have never been late before."
"I bet someone is distracting them," the first said knowingly.
"Can that happen?" the second wondered.
And that was when the door closed and their attention seemed to move from one another to the huge cluster of house-elves surrounding the starving girl.
"Of course," Fred said sarcastically, throwing his arms in the air.
"Who else would hold up lunch for everyone else?" George added, rolling his eyes.
"Do you reckon she's eaten it all by now?"
"I reckon she might've."
Meril glared at the freckled-boys as the house elves bustled off, carrying off her plates while others, hearing the news that they were late, hurried to fill the House tables with food.
"I was not holding them up!" Meril indignantly declared, jumping to her feet. The twins moved closer to her and stared down; her head barely reached over their shoulders, but her glare was fierce.
"I'm sure," George sad sarcastically.
"You fat cow," Fred teased, poking her unbearably flat stomach.
She jumped away from his touch and hugged herself. "Oh, well ex-cuuuuse me! First I'm anorexic and now I'm a 'fat cow?' Make up your minds, mates!"
"You are..." George began, biting his sticking-out tongue as he thought for a moment. Meril averted her gaze, her heart beating at an alarming rate. "An anorexically-fat cow."
"Oh, bravo!" Fred sarcastically applauded as Meril blinked.
"That doesn't even make sense," she blankly pointed out.
George pinched her cheek and stuck his tongue out at her, winking. "That's the point, now isn't it?" He poked her nose; she scowled.
"What are you two doing here?" she finally asked.
"Same reason you are!" Fred said, grinning.
Meril blinked and pointed upwards. "What about lunch? Up there?"
"Well, that got delayed, now didn't it?" His grin broadened as Meril's scowl deepened.
"It totally is not the point! Why do you two both think that it is?"
"Great minds think alike," the said in unison, shrugging.
Meril stared at them, wide eyed, then pointed. "You know how creepy that is, right?"
"Yes," they replied, still speaking at exactly the same time in the same exact way. Meril shuddered and turned away from them, choosing instead to watch the house elves bustle about. They had begun to swarm around the three again, and the twins seemed rather pleased by the attention some were giving them, completely ignoring the others who seemed to think it was time for them to go. Meril sunk down into the corner silently, unable to think of some other place to go. It didn't even occur to her that she should try to get away from the twins. Why would it? They were her friends, and they snuck off all the time! Why would they even think of dragging her back to the Hospital Wing?
A few minutes past and Meril simply sat there in the corner, wiggling her toes and staring into space as the twins were served by the house elves. Seriously, to those two, being served food by those guys was like having "hot girls" crawling all over them; they positively glowed. Meril snorted rather loudly at the thought, barely able to contain her laughter, and that was when the Weasleys remembered her presence. They dropped the food they were holding (the house elves squealed and quickly cleaned it up as if it were some contagious disease).
"You!" Fred accusingly said, pointing at me; George joined his twin in staring and pointing at the pajama-clad brunette.
Meril looked startled. "What?"
"Shouldn't you be in the Hospital Wing?" George said slowly, his eyebrow cocked. He and his twin were moving in on the girl. She jumped to her feet and made a run for it, but they cornered her in. She paused for a moment before ducking under their arms and moving to escape, but they simply grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her back.
"Come on, love! Let's go!" Fred cheerily commanded; his eyes twinkled as he hooked his arm with hers. George followed suit and together, the two strong Weasleys carried the light weight--backwards--out of the kitchen. They didn't let her go there, though. Oh, no. They kept carrying her along; the Lizlow was kicking all the way, muttering complaints about the hospital; the twins paid no heed, simply dragged her along, humming happily to themselves as if they had accomplished something marvelous.
"Come on guys! Don't make me go back! I need my freedom!" the brunette whined, looking over her shoulder at the two freckled brothers.
"Oh, you'll survive. I'm sure you've had plenty of entertainment!" Fred snorted, waving his free hand dismissively.
"Yeah!" George agreed. "Lee said he had been in."
"Yes, but you guys never came," Meril pointed out. "You promised you would come back, and you didn't. You were too busy with Jennifer to care for your poor crippled friend." She sniffed and attempted to dab at her eyes, but her arms were too restricted for her hands to reach her face. She settled for sniffing all the more loudly.
"Once you find out what we're doing, I really don't think you'll care so much," George whispered, a frown blemishing his perfect face.
"You may actually be quite pleased," Fred added after a moment's hesitation. Obviously he decided it was safe for him to say something since George did and made no objection. It appeared to Meril that whatever was going on, George was in charge of. Or at least, he was the one keeping it hushed up, seeing as Fred kept letting little things slip (and George would nudge his ribs or smack him upside the head).
"I highly doubt that," the female snorted, turning her head back around. She glared at everyone they past, all of whom were watching the three with mild amusement and bemusement.
"Mind your own business," she snarled when someone opened their mouth to ask what was going on. The boy blushed and scampered away; just about everyone else in the vicinity followed suit.
"Why don't you think you'll be pleased?" George inquired sounding worried. Meril glanced at him and noticed his eyebrows were pulled tightly together in thoughtful concentration. Meril's lips twitched slightly.
"It's not that I won't be pleased by whatever you're doing," she soothed. "It's just that I would rather you do it with someone other than that bossy, control freak, jerk-y Hufflepuff."
"Oh, someone more like a...a snarling, sneaking, pranking, jealous Gryffindor?" Fred suggested, staring pointedly.
"J-jealous?" Meril snorted. She dragged her heels on the ground until the twins stopped walking. "Jealous? What on earth would I be jealous of?"
"See how she doesn't deny the other things I said?" Fred murmured; George grinned and nodded.
"Well, thats because I am the other things you said! But jealous? No."
"Oh, I think you are."
"George? Do you?" Her piercing gaze found its way towards the other twin; he nodded.
"See, you are jealous that we are spending time with someone other than you. You hate to think that we could bear to be separated from you, our Queen. Mer, we've been doing it for two years; we've gotten used to it."
"And of course, we want to spend time with you," George added before a sound could exit Meril's open mouth. "And yes, Jennifer is a pretty terrible person, but she's the best person to do the job. I>Trust us on that. Even Heather agrees!"
Meril's angry face fell. "So you guys are talking to Heather, too?" she squeaked. Sure she had seen them all over that parchment one time, but...more than that?
George nodded.
"And you know," Fred continued, "we aren't the only ones hanging out with other people. Half the time we even are available, you're off with Angelina, Alicia, or Oliver. And sometimes you even drag Lee off with you! And we have never once complained, or gotten angry or jealous over it, because we know you have other friends and other things to do than hang out with us! We know that! You've been gone for two years; of course you'd want to catch up with everyone. We get that! So don't you go complaining that we're never there to hang out with, you...you...hypocrite, when we're off doing something for you!"
"You went to far, Fred," George whispered. Whether it was about him calling Meril a hypocrite or if it was because what he said about it being for her, Meril didn't know, but she didn't care either. She turned away and ducked her head so her long, wavy brown hair covered up her red face. She swallowed, hoping that the lump which was--once again--forming in hr throat would go away; and it finally did, only not the way the girl was hoping it would. The lump had dissolved into her eyes and tears were once again trickling down her cheeks.
"Please let me go," she choked, not daring to look over at them.
"No; you'll just run off again. You need to be in the Hospital Wing."
"What do you guys care anyway? Just...just leave me alone."
"Mer--" Fred began softly. All the anger that had just been in his voice had completely disappeared and it was left as melodious as ever. He twisted slightly and gently touched her hair, tucking it behind her ear; she turned away. "Look, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to. It's just that..."
"I anger you so much that you cant help it?" she 'helpfully' suggested, the bitterness evident in her voice.
"No, Meril. You don't anger us," George piped up; his voice, too, was soft and gentle, as was his touch. He carefully pulled her hair away from her face and tried to get her to look at him, but she refused.
"It's just that..." Fred continued; he stumbled over himself, trying to find the right words. "We're missed you, and we're trying to do this awesome thing for you, but you just keep getting angry and jealous."
"It makes us think that you won't like it, and that we're wasting our time even trying."
"We really want to do this for you. And in order to do it completely right, we need Jennifer's help. She's really good at what she does, and even though we had to bribe her--"
"--and hire her," George interrupted.
"Yes, bribe and hire her, we think it will be worth it."
"And we'll stop talking to her once it is all over," George said soothingly.
"We like her probably just about as much as you do."
"So we'll have no problem at all dropping her."
"We just hope she won't mind too much."
"Yes, I think our boyish charms might jus be too much for her to handle, don't you Fred?"
"Oh yes, I quite agree. Did you ever notice how she gets all flustered and slaps us?"
"Oh, yes; she so wants us."
"Too bad that we're not available, eh Gred?"
"Yes, too bad for her, Forge; too bad we arent available for her."
"I feel bad for whatever handkerchief she uses when she finds out."
"It might just sprout legs and run off."
"I know I always want to when she's around."
"You already have legs, Fred."
He stopped walking abruptly--Meril hadnt even realized they were moving in the first place--and stared down. "Is that what those things are? Funny contraptions."
At long last, Meril giggled. The twins exchanged pleased glances and continued on walking, still discussing how much everyone--and everything disliked Jennifer, which was sure to keep Meril laughing for a long while.
"I wonder if she's ever had a boyfriend," Fred wondered.
"They probably ended up in the Hospital Wing, if she did. Imagine dating her, eh?"
"Ha ha. Yeah....but speaking of the Hospital Wing..."
Meril's grin slid off of her face. "Must we?"
"Yes, Mer; we must."
"But why?"
"Because your hand isn't healed."
"I've been locked up in there for two whole days. I think it's good by now!"
"Now, Meril--are you the nurse?" Fred inquired in a patronizing way.
"No," Meril scowled, doing her best not to laugh.
"That's right. Now come along! Let's get you back inside!"
"Is that feverish girl still in there?" George wondered as he reached out to open the door.
"Yup!"
George's hand dropped with a twitch. "Madam Pomfrey isn't going to...she's not going to make me give that potion to her, is she?"
"No!" Meril laughed. "Or, at least...I don't think she will...."
George paled; Fred snickered.
"Come on, you big baby! Open the door!"
"Yeah!" Meril agreed; two sets of hazel eyes settled upon her.
"I thought you didn't want to go in?" George blinked, confused.
"Yeah! You were just complaining about it!"
"Well, I promised little Ezmie that I would sneak her out," Meril explained in an off-hand way.
"...Ezmie?" they asked simultaneously.
"Esmeralda Jones. She's the little girl in the Hospital Wing with me."
"And is she waiting for you to come sneak her off?"
"No, probably not. She was asleep when I told her. She's always asleep, pretty much."
"Then really, it doesn't matter if you keep you promise or not, does it?"
"Well I suppose not..."
"Exactly. Now come on."
George swung the door open and, together, the Weasley twins carried the Lizlow into the hospital, where the three were immediately bombarded by a worried Madam Pomfrey.
"What did you two do with her?" she roared, sweeping down upon them. "I have been worried sick about you, Miss Lizlow! I come out to give you your potion and you're gone!! Tell me, what did these two do with you?!"
"We didn't do anything to her!" they shouted, outraged at the accusation.
"Well then where was she?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, wrapping her arm around the tiny fifth-year's shoulder and leading her to her bed.
"We don't know!"
"Yeah! We just went down to get some food from the kitchen because we were hungry and we found Meril down there, pigging out!" George explained, earning a look from Fred; no one was supposed to know they knew how to get into the kitchen. However, Madam Pomfrey was unbothered by this. A look of realization had come onto her face.
"Oh, so that's who was causing the hold up, eh? I should have known." She chuckled slightly.
Apparently, Meril had a bigger reputation for eating than she ever would have guessed.
"So if you two didn't kidnap her--"
"I snuck off, Madam Pomfrey," Meril sighed, saving her the trouble.
"Here, take your potion dear--and don't make any faces!" She thrust the goblet at Meril, studying her face. "Why?"
"Why what?" Meril asked, grimacing as she swallowed.
"Why did you sneak off? Your hand still needs to heal some before you start going off!"
"I hate Hospitals," the brunette replied bluntly. She emptied the goblet and placed it on her bedside table, flopping down on her bed. "And my hand is fine."
The nurse raised her eyebrow. "Oh, is it now?" she asked disbelievingly.
"Yup! I think all that rest did it good."
"Oh, well thanks for your prognosis, doctor! I'll be sure to order that next time someone breaks just about every bone in their hand!" the nurse sarcastically exclaimed. And with that, she disappeared into her office.
Fred and George sat down on either side of the bed, tisk-tisking.
"I thought we already discussed this, Meril," Fred tutted, resting his head beside hers on the pillow. "You are not the nurse."
"But my hand is fine!" the girl insisted, raising it into the air. "See?" She wiggled her fingers and grimaced. "Okay, so it's not perfect, but I can live!"
"Yes, and you can live in the Hospital for now, can't you?" George put in, poking his friend in the face.
"No."
The Weasleys sighed and sat back up. Silently they began to dig through her presents, helping themselves to some Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's. Meril watched them, smiling to herself.
"Save me some of those, will you?" she sarcastically requested as the two stuffed themselves with a bunch of Honeyduke's best.
"Sure thing, Mer," they replied, grinning, their mouths filled with sweets. Meril rolled her eyes and turned away, staring up at the ceiling blankly once again.
"Man, you got some good stuff, Mer!" Fred exclaimed. "I've never gotten so much just for breaking my hand!"
"Fred, youve never broken your hand," George sighed.
"Oh, right. That was you..."
Meril laughed. "Jeez, you guys even get yourselves mixed up, and yet I don't!"
"You must be, like, the All-Knowing God or something," George reasoned, swallowing down a chocolate frog and sitting back down on the edge of the bed.
"Yes, I must be," Meril laughed. Fred sat down on the bed, too, finally abandoning the half-gone candy.
"So...Fred, tell me more about that dream of yours, will you?"
"What dr--OH! Alright! So, I was running around the Great Hall in only my socks, right? For some reason, the tables were all shoved aside and the entire school was lined up against the wall, watching and laughing, you know, which was odd enough as it was, but then a bunch of midgets came dancing in. They had fangs, and they were dancing in a large circle around me--Merlin, there must have been at least twenty of them--and then the all jumped me! One attempted to mug me, but of course I only had my socks and so that didn't work too well. They got all mad and ended up carrying me above their heads out of the Great Hall and taking them to their secret island of midgets located in the middle of the Lake, Then they roasted me and threw me out for the Giant Squid..."
Meril sat there, staring at her friend silently for a moment before finally breaking out into a hysterical fit of laughter. "You...you...Oh, Merlin! Is that why you're so afraid of midgets?"
Fred shrugged. "That might be why. Or maybe I had the dream because I am afraid of them; not quite sure."
Meril glanced towards George, who was laying strangely still. "You don't find it funny George?"
"Well, I did the first fifty times I heard it, but now when I hear it, it just makes me wish it would actually happen."
"Ew. You want Fred to run around stark-naked in the Great Hall?"
Fred grinned in what would be a charming way and winked at Meril. "Doesn't everybody?"
Meril giggled and swatted his arm while George looked absolutely horrified. "No! Not that part! The getting eaten part."
"Now, George, that's just mean!"
"Yeah, George! How could you wish something like that upon your own brother? Your twin? Your other half?"
George merely shrugged, the corners of his lips twitching into a slight smile.
"So, Georgie, any odd dreams you would like to share with us?"
George appeared to be considering it for a moment before shaking his head. "No."
"Oh, come on George! No dreams? At all? None about any ladies?" Fred's grin was so large is threatened to permanently stretch his face.
Meanwhile, George's face was beat red. He turned away from Meril. "No," he murmured. "None."
"Everyone has odd dreams, Georgie! I remember one time I had this dream where I--" she stopped. "Oh, oh! I see what you mean about not having now! You just don't want to tell us! Yeah, I get that..."
"Oh, now Im interested Meril! Please, do tell us that dream you had..."
"No, no. It's too embarrassing."
"No dream is too embarrassing to tell us!"
Meril stared blankly at him. "Alright. We'll see about that." She lowered her voice. "So I was--"
"This doesn't involve you being naked, does it?" George asked tiredly.
Meril grinned slyly. "Why? Don't want to have to picture that?"
George's face flamed up. "No, it's not that--"
"So you do want to picture her naked?" Fred inquired, his eyebrows so high they nearly fell off his head.
George's face was redder than his hair. "I didn't say I>that either. It's just that everyone's embarrassing dreams involves them being naked somewhere."
"I still think he wants to picture you naked," Fred whispered. Meril's face burned as she laughed nervously.
"I know I wouldn't mind," he added thoughtfully, winking at her.
"Oh, ew, gross!" Meril screeched, punching him furiously, completely forgetting--once again--about her hand.
"Oh...did I come in at a bad time?" a meek voice said from the doorway. The three looked up just in time to see Heather disappearing back out into the hall. Meril immediately shot up, dropping her pillow. She crawled over Fred and ran to the door.
"Heather! Wait!" she called after the Hufflepuff. The blonde froze and slowly turned to face Meril. She smiled slightly and took one step forward, then stopped, as if she feared coming any closer.
"Sorry about that there," Meril said nervously, not quite sure what she was sorry about. "Fred and George were just goofing around...with me."
"Yes. I noticed," Heather said lightly. The corners of her mouth twitched upward again in a sort of grimace smile. She stuffed her hand into her robe pocket and started playing with it.
"So...how are things with Cedric?"
"Great! Yeah we're....awesome. Couldn't be happier!" And although Heather seemed completely sincere, her face looked so tired and sad that it was hard for Meril to believe that there was something wrong. Maybe not with their relationship, but with Heather.
"Good," the brunette awkwardly said. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and started shuffling her bare feet.
"So...there was a hold up at lunch. Apparently the house-elves had been distracted by someone. Well, that's the word on the street anyway." The blonde grinned now, some of the usual sparkle returning to her face.
"Yes, I've heard about that! Caused quite a commotion."
"Yes, and, as usual, you were behind it."
"Now whoever told you that?" Meril wondered, smiling innocently.
"Oh, just...a friend." She shrugged and glanced down at her watch. "Right well...I better go."
Without waiting for a response, Heather turned and started to walk away. Meril called her back.
"Why'd you stop by Heath? It couldn't possibly have been just to talk to me about my break-out of the Hospital Wing to go down to the kitchen..."
Heather shrugged slightly, looking uncomfortable. Her arm tensed as she held onto something in her pocket even tighter. "I..." her voice trailed off; she shook her head, smiling sadly.
"I'm so tired of this," Meril heard the blonde mutter, chuckling bitterly and looking at her feet. "So sick..."
"Heather, what?"
"Never mind. I...I'll see you around, Meril! I...I hope that your hand gets better soon. Class isn't the same without you." She ran her hand through her perfect hair and walked off without another glance at her friend. Meril sighed, staring at the spot where the Hufflepuff had stood. Shaking her head, she reached for the door handle and pulled it open, disappearing back into the Hospital Wing where the twins were waiting for her. Lazily, the brunette opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. "Like what? You two already ate most of it." Fred and George grinned identically, their hazel eyes twinkling slyly. Meril rolled her eyes, sighed, and fell back down onto the bed, her hair fanning out around her head. Fred absent-mindedly began to play with her hair, staring off into space as he did so. George glanced at his brother, frowned ever so slightly, and turned away. Careful not to disturb the resting Meril, he sat up and got off the bed. Meril's eyes immediately shot open. She rolled over, unconsciously removing herself from Fred and stared up at George with wide blue eyes. "Where are you going?" "Nowhere!" George, startled, exclaimed. He stared down at the two for a moment before spotting the miniature Quidditch pitch he and Fred had worked so hard on together. As he moved slowly towards it, his brother and his friend watched him, curious. He held it in his arms as if it were a baby; delicate and loving. Inside, it was still replaying the horrible scene of Meril breaking her hand. "Do you like seeing what happened or something?" he wondered, taking a seat beside the bed. Meril snorted rather loudly at this ridiculous inquiry. "Oh, yes. I love to replay that lovely scene! Can't get enough of it!" "No need to be so sarcastic, love," Fred teased, poking her and sticking out his tongue. "Just a simple question." "Yes, well, it's also an obvious answer." "Well then why haven't you changed it?" Meril stared blankly at him. "I don't know how clearly! None of the creators ever cared enough to explain it to me!" "Here, I'll show you," George offered, leaning in closer to her. He brandished his wand and pointed it at the pitch's base. "Are you watching." "Yes." "To get it to play whatever is going on at the exact moment, you point your wand and say, Pretenser occupied. Now, if you want to replay something, you say Replainse and then add the date and time of what you'd like to replay. Those are the basics; it's pretty simple. If there's ever anything else you'd like to do, though, just ask." "Alright," Meril said, shrinking away from his gaze. She felt her heart rate increase rapidly and a blush crawling across her face. What was wrong with her?! It wasnt the first time he had ever looked at her. But there was just something about those eyes...She glanced quickly upward and her heart almost melted in her chest. His hazel eyes were looking particularly green and were twinkling. The freckles spilled across the bridge of his nose gave him the look of innocence and sweetness such as Meril had never before seen on him. And then his smile... it sent a shudder up her back. "Are you cold?" both twins wondered at the same time. "No! No, I'm fine. Just...I felt a chill. But...I'm good." The brunette turned away from George and instead faced Fred, but it was the same problem there. Both were staring at her curiously, their vibrant red hair cascading over their foreheads. "There's something I'd like to show you two," she mumbled, merely to escape their stares for a moment. She sprawled out across the bed and began rummaging about underneath it. "Oh, sweet! I didn't even realize you had anything under there!" George exclaimed. "Fred, we missed out on a good load...!" He bent down and started peering underneath; Fred soon did the same thing on the other side. "Man, Mer! Who knew so many people liked you!" Fred cried out, positively gleeful. He reached out to grab something but Meril swatted his hand away. "No. My stuff! Back off, pigs!" "Pigs?" they simultaneously howled, affronted. "Yes, well, that's what you get for calling me an anorexically fat cow, now isn't it George? Fred?" They said nothing but withdrew their hands and returned to their posts. Meril, clutching a cardboard box, soon resurfaced. "Come, come, duckies. This is really cool!" The twins leaned closer, sandwiching Meril between them much to her "Who the bloody hell gave these to you?!" George wondered, lifting a crystal figurine delicately between his forefinger and thumb. He brought it close to his face and, squinting, examined it. "Some guy named...hang on!" She reached across Fred and removed the letter from the side table. "Here; read this, you two," she demanded. The two redheads leaned in even closer and read the letter. In a matter of only a few moments, the two pulled apart. "Who's this Adalmund fellow?" they asked, tapping the elegant parchment and eyeing the Lizlow suspiciously. "I have no clue," she quite honestly replied. After a moment of thoughtful silent, Fred's head popped up. "I have an idea!" he quite excitedly declared. George and Meril stared at him expectantly. "Maybe he is this really old guy who your parents arranged for you to marry when you came of age!" Meril took a deep breath, her face giving the impression that she thought it was likely. Fred awaited praise for his genius, but instead received a blunt, "No." George chuckled as Fred's face fell; Meril grinned. "Good...good idea though. My parents aren't for that sort of thing. My mom is all for that 'one true love' garbage." She laughed. "You don't believe in it?" George asked skeptically, earning him a look from both Meril and Fred. His cheeks tinged pink, but his gaze never left the female's face. "Well--I'm not sure. I mean...It's just so...unlikely isn't it? I think most people are just going to have to settle for someone they love, even if they aren't 'the one' because, well..." She shrugged, not sure of what else to say. Besides, she added to herself. I think I'll have to settle. It's hard to believe in only one true love when.. she glanced discreetly towards the twins and hurriedly looked away. "I don't know. Maybe," she lamely ended. She fiddled with the parchment, folding it over and over again. George waited for a moment, still staring at Meril, his eyes piercing her pale skin. "I do," he finally said. Meril's eyes slid upwards and caught with his. He smiled brightly at her and she felt her heart beat and her stomach churn. "What about you, Freddie?" she wondered, turning quickly to look over at the other twin. He, too, was staring at her, but, unlike George, who had seemed positively sure of himself, Fred was confused. "I'm not sure either." "It's a confusing business, I suppose," she sighed, falling back on her bed for what felt like the hundredth time. The boys exchanged looks before replying in that creepy, simultaneous way of theirs: "Yeah...it is." so, resa, what do you got to say to that? OMFG, right? ahahahahaha inside joke, people. I know you probably think you know what it means, but really, you don't. anyway, rate&&message, please, and I will love you forever. thanks again!!!!
ooooooooooooooooooooooooh. ha ha. I know they should be friends again but I have a plan *grins slyly*
"I want to see some more of your presents," George insisted. He pocketed the ball he had been throwing and stared at Meril, who was busy dozing off.pleasure horror. Taking a deep breath and, ignoring her racing heart--so annoying! This ever used to happen so frequently! she screamed inside her head--she opened up the box. Inside was the beautiful silver one, filled with all of its goods. One by one, she removed them all and presented them to her two friends.
and end chapter fifteen!!!! WHOO!!!!
there we go :) Chapter five-plus-ten :) I really hope you liked. I know I absolutely adored it. But I guess I'm biased.
