beware the blame | vivian

[Teresa Margarite Poole]

make a martyr outta me.

JAN 2021

HEAD DUCKED TO HER CHEST, TERRY WAS VERY involved with the piece of Charms text she was reading. She'd been booted from the library that evening, on the account that it was a Sunday and she had made something of a nest for herself there. Upon discovery, she'd been scolded and mortified into leaving the premises, a little crust of drool flaking on her cheek. This meant that she was somewhat skittery as she edged around the Ravenclaw landing towards her dorm room. It meant she barely gave a second glance to the cackle of tittering girls who shouldered by her in a hurry as she did. It meant she was definitely going to pass her Charms O.W.L.

Muttering a muted apology, Terry had barely lifted her head. In fact, she didn't lift her head until she was standing in the center of her dorm and she felt the air shift around her. Something was wrong, her sleepless brain crowed. The parchment dropped and Terry's chin rose, her eyes a little bleary as she took in the muted light of her shared dorm, finding herself the only soul in it at that moment. A prickle of anxiety froze her guts as her eyes processed what was around her instead of her roommates.

Balloons... she blinked stupidly, wondering if she had missed a birthday of Vivian's or Nova's. Which, under current conditions, was entirely possible. None of them were really talking at all since after Christmas Break. They weren't even fighting, which was a feat in itself. Then Terry's vision cleared and she realised what she was looking at. Her entire dorm had been decorated - no, defaced - by a dozen inflated moons, not balloons. The charm was flimsy and none of the moons were very well done, but moons they were. And all across the bed directly across from her own, fluttering flyers were pinned haphazardly. Terry took a tentative step forward, heart hammering.

On the flyer was a very crude rendition of her roommate Vivian, which flickered like a cartoon. One moment Vivian scowled unnaturally, showing garish drawn fangs, the next it flicked to a very unflattering shaggy dog howling at a badly drawn full moon - Terry could only presume it was supposed to be a werewolf. Above the image was the block letters 'BEWARE THE DOG'. Underneath, the phrase 'watch your mouth' and 'dog breath'. Various unfunny jokes about dogs and Vivian printed across hundreds of pieces of paper. It was stupid, it was cruel, it was sick. Terry was seized with anger, her mouth pinching as she thought of Vivian ever finding her own bed so horribly invaded by such a badly done prank.

As she considered all the ways she could erase she entire experience from existence, Terry heard the unmistakable laugh of Vivian Jordan. Too loud, too bright, and coming straight for her dorm room door. Terry moved instinctively, frightened for the consequences as she began to very hastily gather up as many of the cruel flyers as she could manage. When that failed, she pulled her wand and tried to charm them into a great pile to try and vanish, but had created something of a hurricane around herself when the door swung open. Terry's eyes squeezed shut, her face screwed in a painful cringe as she imagined how she might appear. A great flurry of ridiculing flyers around her body, a moon balloon staticky to the crown of her head. "I... think it'd be better if you left for a bit." Terry suggested in a moment of shocking clarity. "I'm in a bit of a state, you see." 

Vivian River Jordan

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Vivian River Jordan]

January 2021

Eyes down, bookbag clutched against her chest – Viv shouldered her way through the corridor without really taking in anything around her. It was all just noise, the students chattering loudly around her and pointing their wands at each other and the Fanged Frisbee someone had released. A month ago, that would have been her – in the middle of the action, surrounded by a large group of friends and cheekily smiling at whichever professor had come to hand out detention this time. But now? She kept her shoulders hunched and wished the floor would swallow her up. There’d been loads of arguments at home about whether she was coming back to Hogwarts at all or which of her parents would take time off to homeschool her until she got ‘back on her feet’. Viv had raged and cried and begged to come back, because she desperately wanted to feel normal after ages in St. Mungo’s and a flood of ‘get well soon’ cards through the owl post.

But now she wondered if she’d really won the argument, because she was back and hated every moment of it. It was impossible to decide which part of it was worse. The distrusting eyes following her in the corridor, students who would slip notes to her in the Great Hall with bad cartoons and bullying messages. Or there was the strategy that the vast majority of people had taken, which was avoiding eye contact (or any contact at all) so she spent most of her days in silence with a buffer around her since most people didn’t seem to want to get too close (like she was contagious or something). And the worst was the small group of people determined to pretend that nothing had happened at all, usually her old childhood playmates, and who kept drawing her into conversations and leaving Chocolate Frogs on her plate. It felt more like pity than the actual desire to be around her, and Viv wanted to be the only one feeling sorry for herself.

All in all, it was too much to bear and she slinked away from the Headmistress’s Office, who had dutifully assured her that there were other werewolf students at school and of course they could accommodate her special needs and there was no reason to postpone her magical education. But Viv just felt awful as she wound her way back to the common room, knocking shoulders with a Gryffindor in her haste to escape the knot of students in the corridor. She wanted to feel normal, but her overdrawn mind kept telling her that normal wasn’t possible anymore. That this was just going to be the rest of her experience at Hogwarts until she graduated or quit. She stomped up the stairs of Ravenclaw Tower, lingered for a moment on the riddle (but hey, it was only her shoulder that looked gruesome and not her mind) and then shoved the door aside so she could run to bed and pull the curtains ‘round her and forget about the outside world.

Most of the common room kept their eyes pointedly away from her, but one brave Ravenclaw waved a piece of parchment around. “Hey Viv, don’t forget to fill out your Quidditch bracket! I’ve got the Wasps for the win!” Since he was one of her only House-mates still willing to talk to her, Viv forced herself to laugh (even if it sounded terribly forced) and respond. “Come on Nat, it’s obviously the Magpies this year.” In normal times, she would have lingered to make another quip or two and sit down to fill out her predictions, but Viv wanted badly to be alone. She couldn’t even guess how terrible she looked, tired at the very least, so she continued up the staircase and into the girls’ dormitory. There was a strange whooshing sound coming from the room, but that wasn’t necessarily suspicious. Viv sometimes experimented with new prank ideas, and Nova could always be found practicing her Charms work for class.

But she stopped cold at the sight of Terry in the middle of a hurricane of papers and what looked like moons she was levitating to hang around Viv’s bed. Her face burned at the thought that it had been Terry leaving heartless notes and tossing her things since they’d come back from the Christmas break, because even if they weren’t best friends she’d never noticed a cruel streak in her roommate. But then maybe it took something bad to happen in order to bring out the worst in people. Viv’s mouth hung open as Terry suggested she leave, and she snatched a flyer from the hurricane to scan the contents of the cartoon. “Why?” Viv demanded indignantly, her eyes frozen on the paper, “Haven’t finished conjuring the fake blood yet?”

Teresa Margarite Poole

[Teresa Margarite Poole]

make a martyr outta me.

JAN 2021

THE PARCHMENT FLYERS FLUTTERED AROUND, and slapped noisily at Terry's feet. Her wand held up in a small, shaking hand. Her face deep red from panic and embarrassment. The silence felt heavy, the papers floating to the ground in a great sea of white and black ink. Her hair standing on end where the static from the balloons had clung to the fragile strands. She imagined, quite horrifically, that she was the picture of guilt.

Terry opened her eyes reluctantly, her voice shaking as she asked for just a moment. Just a time-turners twist to correct such a horrible mistake. Vivian stood just a few feet away, the shock on her face plain as day as she took in the great mess of her bed hangings and the floor. And Terry, placed right in the middle of it all. What could she do but stand and take what was given? She wanted to shield Vivian's eyes, to turn all the flyers in to flower petals, but she was so shocked she couldn't think of a single helpful spell. Goodness, she'd better learn to improve her reaction times, she thought unhelpfully.

"I-" Terry was almost primed to answer. To explain away the slight, and tell her dormmate that teenagers were just cruel. That they would report the incident and make sure everybody involved was punished, it was against everything Hogwarts stood for, but- the record scratched and Terry blanched at the frightening anger that seized Vivian's face. How it screwed up and pinched, her body hunched as she snatched a flyer up just to look at it up close. Terry almost reached for it, but she couldn't.

"You think I did this...?" Terry asked in a meek, trodden voice. Her face felt hot, but not from embarrassment or sympathy this time. It was a mixture of hurt and disbelief. Her lips pulling down at the corners, eyes blinking rapidly as the stung from the sheer force of Vivian's accusations. "I know..." She swallowed tightly, dropping her hand arm and rubbing at the ache in her chest. "I know what it looks like, but-" She shook her head, looking down at the papers at her feet as Terry struggled to articulate exactly what it was that hurt so much about Vivian's assured judgement. "I would never do something like this." She whispered, barely audible in the din of the defiled dorm room. "Not to you," She said, a little louder this time. "Not to anyone." 

Vivian River Jordan

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Vivian River Jordan]

The whole dormitory looked like a horror movie in the making, and Viv’s eyes couldn’t even decide where to settle. They darted from the hurricane of flyers (which was beginning to settle into a lazy drift around the room) to the moon balloons which hung sadly in the air like they’d lose their enchantment at any minute, to Terry standing in the middle of it all like a very guilty-looking conductor standing in front of their orchestra of horrors. Viv was still somewhat aware that she was clutching her textbooks to her chest like a shield, but in a very disconnected way – like her soul had floated out of her body and was watching the whole thing from the side. And there was nothing she wanted more in that moment than to have the power of the Hogwarts ghosts to simply walk through the walls and disappear.

Viv’s brain literally ground to a halt – quite a feat for a Ravenclaw – and she opened her mouth and closed it twice as she failed to find any words to say. The two girls stood staring at each other for another moment in silence while Viv tried to decide what the look on Terry’s face was. She looked sorry, but of course she’d be sorry to have gotten caught doing something like this. They’d been roommates for five years already, and went to every class together, and that made this the absolute height of betrayal. Because shouldn’t she know better than anybody else that Viv wasn’t some brainless monster that just wanted to attack people? Her eyes burned at the effort of holding back tears as she stared at Terry.

Although the other girl’s tentative question, in the smallest voice ever, seemed like the wrong thing to say. “How dumb do you think I am?” Viv demanded in a wobbly voice, bringing the sleeves of her robes up to angrily wipe away a few stray tears. “What’s the excuse, then? You blacked out and woke up with a moon balloon in your hand and thought you’d finish the job? Someone nicked your hair and made some Polyjuice and this isn’t you at all? Well go on, explain!” The last bit came out in a burst and Viv clutched her textbooks tightly like she could somehow jump into their pages and escape this nightmare scenario if she tried hard enough. But she was still standing in her dormitory with Terry insisting she hadn’t done it. “You’ve all been avoiding me since we got back,” Viv accused, pointing out the obvious as if that was the only explanation she needed. She rocked back on her feet as she continued in a shaky voice, “Nova hasn’t said a word and you won’t even make eye contact. What’s that supposed to make me think?”

Teresa Margarite Poole

[Teresa Margarite Poole]

make a martyr outta me.

JAN 2021

THERE WAS AN ACHING SINCERITY TO TERRY'S vehement defence. How it stung to be accused of something so petty and cruel, especially by a girl she considered a friend. It didn't matter that Vivian was clearly too upset from the assault to see reason. That the anger burned so hotly that all she could see was Terry in a sea of nasty flyers. She didn't quite have the maturity to think that maybe Vivian just needed a little time, at least not in that moment. In that moment, all she heard was Vivian's sharp accusations and that horrible twist to her mouth.

"I- I..." She firmed her mouth closed as Vivian went on and on, unable to say anything without her bottom lip trembling. Vivian had always been the better debater, she'd smashed every topic in Muggle Studies since first year. Terry was better at the quieter sort of studies, but that didn't mean she felt equipped to take such a verbal lashing. She dropped her wand and crossed her arms behind her back, stepping away from the halo of flyers and balloons and giving up her attempt to minimise the damage.

"This is a terrible practical joke," She muttered in the ensuing silence. Distancing herself from the mess with very small steps. "I would never think of something so base and cruel," She sniffed, feeling a little prideful along with that raw wound. "You see I was- I was trying to make it go away." She blinked at the ground, biting down on the inside of her cheek until she tasted the metal of blood. All in a valiant attempt to stop herself from crying. "It was all here- it was everywhere when I came in and-" She hiccuped a breath or two, one after the other. "-and I was trying to spell it away when you came in- it's awful timing and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you had to see it." She ranted with her eyes squeezed shut and her head bowed in shame.

Terry's shoulders were shrugged up around her ears when she eventually managed to lift her head. Large eyes glassy and cheeks still flushed a bright, humiliated red. "I can look at you, I swear." She said around a sad, pinched mouth. "I just- I didn't know what to say..." She sniffed, lifting an arm to rub it hard against her nose, gesturing at the mess she was slowly distancing herself from. "But this- this, all this isn't something I would ever say." 

Vivian River Jordan

NEVERLAND at ADOXOGRAPHY 2.0!

[Vivian River Jordan]

The word burned in Viv’s ears. Joke. It was her favorite thing ever. She’d grown up on a steady diet of laughter and cheeky pranks and being taught that jokes were the best way to brighten someone’s day. There was no part of her life that hadn’t been affected by that simple lesson, but this didn’t feel like her life at all. No, she was in some kind of hellish endless Boggart scenario where everyone got to continue with their lives and she was the stranger living in her skin. Classes felt dreadfully long, Viv felt stares following her in the corridor since everyone had found out what happened, and she had to count the days before a full moon carefully so she could remember to take a ghastly potion for the full week before. So this was a joke. This was all some great, big terrible joke that the world was playing on her – only with the worst punchline ever.

Terry was having a fit and seemed like she was on the verge of crying. Which was completely relatable because Viv felt the hot angry tears burn in her eyes as her anger turned into a pit of dread in her stomach. She sat heavily on her bed, feeling the crinkle of the flyers under her, but she didn’t even have the strength to pull one out from under her. Her head sank into her hands as Viv also struggled not to cry. They both looked horrible, and it started to dawn on her that maybe Terry was telling the truth. The other girl was stumbling over her words to explain herself, and her eyes looked glassy. It made Viv feel even worse than before, but she couldn’t seem to summon any strength to comfort her House mate. She didn’t even have the ability to tell herself that things would be alright, because who was she kidding? Life sucked. Everything sucked. Her life would be this way forever and she couldn’t see any way it might get better.

“I hate this,” she said miserably. “I hate school and I hate everyone and I hate me. I hate werewolves.” She’d raged and cried and begged at home to come back to Hogwarts, but she realized that hadn’t been what she’d actually been asking for. She’d wanted an extra-strength Time Turner to send her back, as if coming back to Hogwarts would undo everything that had happened over the break. As if coming here would make everything alright. But all it’d done was show her that nobody saw Vivian Jordan anymore. They saw the werewolf that’d bit her, and they were waiting for her to turn into him and become a monster too. The thought broke some wall inside her that’d been stopping the tears from coming out, and Viv began to cry into her hands. She’d always thought herself smart, but she couldn’t see any way to fix this.

Teresa Margarite Poole