Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Masks we wear
The Homely Smile
5 reviewsEveryone wears a mask at one point in there lives. Some even wear masks to hide not just from others, but from themselves as well.
3Original
Disclaimer: To bored to come up with something funny so read previous disclaimers.
A/N I give you Susan Bones. I'm not so sure on this little piece, but I will let my readers decide.
Mask Four: The Homely Smile.
I want them all to quit looking at me. They all have a stare that tells me one thing and one thing only, they pity me. I am in many way the first recognized victim of the second war with the wizard Voldemort. In a strange way I feel slightly honored. The most feared Dark Lord in over a hundred years is more worried about Hufflepuffs than any other house. Yet still the looks are driving me crazy. I just want to scream at them all to sod off. If one more person lays a hand on my shoulder for comfort I swear I'll turn around and deck them. The only person in my house that seems to have enough, I don't know understanding for me is Hannah.
Of course to be fair none of my house mates know how I feel. I know how most of the school talks about me. In many ways I have just as many admirers as our beloved boy-who-lived. They talk of me about my calm and passive demeanor. Or they talk about the way for most of the school years here I have had a nice and friendly smile on my face which evidently is not the most pleasant or radiant in the whole school, but nice all the same. It has lead to thoughts on me being submissive and accepting like a battered housewife who wants nothing more to do than make little wizards and witches with some strong and powerful wizard. All this and a strange obsession with my evidently rather large breasts. Which for the life of me I can not figure out how them claim this. I never take my robes off in company. I have to many different artifacts on my person to allow that. I guess that is a way to make themselves feel better in attempts to court me for my inheritance since my attempts at making myself unattractive over the years have worked beautifully. So most just believe me to be a rather dumb and naive individual that has the brain cell count of a flubber worm. I suppose this is how some people might even think I'm in shock and unable to realize that my Aunt has been killed. So I push on and let it all dwell inside of me to a point that if any one mentions my Aunt I want to kill them.
In fact that is the problem that leads me to being where I am currently at this moment. All I know is it is on the third floor. In front of me is close to a dozen and a half animated dummies that I am throwing curse after curse at them. The dolls are tossing them right back at me though. Luckily when they connect with me it is only like a stinging hex or a minor cutting hex. I have been down here for over a hour. My robes look like I have walked through sprays of broken glass. I turn to release a bone shattering curse when the dolls stop moving.
"So do you think you got pulverizing Malfoy out of your system?" I look up at my so called savior. At first thought I want to hit him, but than I realize he had helped me from more than likely a year full of detentions or possibly expulsion. "Come to the next room when you feel ready and we can talk."
He doesn't wait for my response and moves back to the room he was in. I am just standing there starting to get pissed all over again. I just want to scream at him. So I march up to the room he is in and stare at his casualness of the situation. After literally dragging me off of Malfoy to where ever I am than locking me in that room with those dolls, he just sits there on a couch drinking a butter beer. "Feel better now?" He doesn't even look at me as he speaks. Instead he holds a butter beer behind his head towards me.
I want to give him something to.. Gods I don't know. So I just grab the bloody bottle and sit in a huff across form him in a plush chair. I stare at his face as he sips the butter beer. I watch as his black hair just runs everywhere with each passing breath. If I'm honest to myself he is only mildly attractive. Not to be mean, but he is kind of short and scrawny. He is sort of toned from being a seeker, yet not exactly number three on Witch Weekly's bachelors list in my opinion.
"Ready to talk about it?" I didn't realize what I did until he hands me back the bottle of butter beer I threw at him. "If you didn't want it you could have just said so." He has this stupid smile on his face. He must be so fond of himself.
"Where am I Harry?" First I am going to find out where I am so I can leave and than I am going to hit him. I swear I don't care what anybody says abut punching out Harry "Golden Boy" Potter. He is being down right insufferable.
"This was Flitwick's test room on the path to the Philosophers Stone from our first year. Hermione and I decided we wanted some privacy to be ourselves after last year. So with most of the school knowing about the room of requirement this is our little home away from home. And now I am inviting you here as well."
I look around the room shocked at how he can go from silly and infuriating to calm and serious in moments. Than I let the slight touristy feeling come over me. This is one of the castles secret areas since I've been enrolled here. This place has almost as many rumors about it as the chamber of secrets. "Who knows about this place?" I can't help it I want to know.
"Hermione, Luna, you, another friend of ours, and me. Of course the teachers know I'm just not sure if they know it is in use right now." he reaches out to a small container next to him and pulls out another butter beer. "I know I'm being pushy, but I want you to know if you need to talk about it I'm here."
He goes to continue, but I stop him. "And what do you know about it Harry? You lost your parents when you were too little to remember them. I remember hugging her as she went to work that day. So what are you going to tell me about it. It will get better over time, r how about it never goes away and to just remember the good instead of the bad. Do you honestly think nobody has said these things to me?" I can't talk anymore. I just cry. He some how has his arm around me. And I'm just soaking his shirt.
"Its okay. You're right I could say all those things to you and they all are true, but I won't. I just want you to know you can talk to me or if you need to you can come down here and destroy what ever you want in that room. It helps immensely I know because that is what I built it for." I can still feel his arms around me and my breathing is slowing down.
"When did you become able to handle crying girls. After last year with Cho, I figured you would have run at the site of one." I can feel him chuckle lightly.
"Well I had some help. I believe I got better when I was being an insensitive prat this summer. Hermione punched me than broke down the whole time telling me off on how my Godfathers death didn't just hit me hard." I can feel him tense at the last sentence, so I decide to leave the topic alone. Looking around I try and find anything to change the topic. I stare at all the bookcases in the room.
"So I can see Hermione's decorations." I blurt out while pointing at a set of bookcases in one of the corners.
"Actually those are mine. Hers are over there." To be honest I'm shocked. I don't know Harry well, but I'm sure avid reader is not him. And I don't know what to say to that. "Well you best get going before Hannah gets worried." I nod and walk towards the door he is pointing to. "Just take that door and walk up the steps in the next room through the trap door. The door in the small room you come in to leads to the third floor corridor. I'm sure you can find your way from there." I walk of and go to turn and say thank you to him, but I'm not sure if now is the right time. I make myself look happy and walk out the room to face the rest of the school leaving the content feeling of being myself with Harry.
A/N I hope it sparked enough interest that you feel like leaving a review and telling me ether why it sucks or why it was nice. I'll admit be weary of this one since Susan has come to her own with so many Molly Weasley fanon comparisons. Her character was so vague that I feel I didn't do her justice. Up next in Masks is Hannah Abbot in the Shy and timid Sheep. I hope to have it typed in at least a week I'm finding computer time to be a rarity lately.
A/N I give you Susan Bones. I'm not so sure on this little piece, but I will let my readers decide.
Mask Four: The Homely Smile.
I want them all to quit looking at me. They all have a stare that tells me one thing and one thing only, they pity me. I am in many way the first recognized victim of the second war with the wizard Voldemort. In a strange way I feel slightly honored. The most feared Dark Lord in over a hundred years is more worried about Hufflepuffs than any other house. Yet still the looks are driving me crazy. I just want to scream at them all to sod off. If one more person lays a hand on my shoulder for comfort I swear I'll turn around and deck them. The only person in my house that seems to have enough, I don't know understanding for me is Hannah.
Of course to be fair none of my house mates know how I feel. I know how most of the school talks about me. In many ways I have just as many admirers as our beloved boy-who-lived. They talk of me about my calm and passive demeanor. Or they talk about the way for most of the school years here I have had a nice and friendly smile on my face which evidently is not the most pleasant or radiant in the whole school, but nice all the same. It has lead to thoughts on me being submissive and accepting like a battered housewife who wants nothing more to do than make little wizards and witches with some strong and powerful wizard. All this and a strange obsession with my evidently rather large breasts. Which for the life of me I can not figure out how them claim this. I never take my robes off in company. I have to many different artifacts on my person to allow that. I guess that is a way to make themselves feel better in attempts to court me for my inheritance since my attempts at making myself unattractive over the years have worked beautifully. So most just believe me to be a rather dumb and naive individual that has the brain cell count of a flubber worm. I suppose this is how some people might even think I'm in shock and unable to realize that my Aunt has been killed. So I push on and let it all dwell inside of me to a point that if any one mentions my Aunt I want to kill them.
In fact that is the problem that leads me to being where I am currently at this moment. All I know is it is on the third floor. In front of me is close to a dozen and a half animated dummies that I am throwing curse after curse at them. The dolls are tossing them right back at me though. Luckily when they connect with me it is only like a stinging hex or a minor cutting hex. I have been down here for over a hour. My robes look like I have walked through sprays of broken glass. I turn to release a bone shattering curse when the dolls stop moving.
"So do you think you got pulverizing Malfoy out of your system?" I look up at my so called savior. At first thought I want to hit him, but than I realize he had helped me from more than likely a year full of detentions or possibly expulsion. "Come to the next room when you feel ready and we can talk."
He doesn't wait for my response and moves back to the room he was in. I am just standing there starting to get pissed all over again. I just want to scream at him. So I march up to the room he is in and stare at his casualness of the situation. After literally dragging me off of Malfoy to where ever I am than locking me in that room with those dolls, he just sits there on a couch drinking a butter beer. "Feel better now?" He doesn't even look at me as he speaks. Instead he holds a butter beer behind his head towards me.
I want to give him something to.. Gods I don't know. So I just grab the bloody bottle and sit in a huff across form him in a plush chair. I stare at his face as he sips the butter beer. I watch as his black hair just runs everywhere with each passing breath. If I'm honest to myself he is only mildly attractive. Not to be mean, but he is kind of short and scrawny. He is sort of toned from being a seeker, yet not exactly number three on Witch Weekly's bachelors list in my opinion.
"Ready to talk about it?" I didn't realize what I did until he hands me back the bottle of butter beer I threw at him. "If you didn't want it you could have just said so." He has this stupid smile on his face. He must be so fond of himself.
"Where am I Harry?" First I am going to find out where I am so I can leave and than I am going to hit him. I swear I don't care what anybody says abut punching out Harry "Golden Boy" Potter. He is being down right insufferable.
"This was Flitwick's test room on the path to the Philosophers Stone from our first year. Hermione and I decided we wanted some privacy to be ourselves after last year. So with most of the school knowing about the room of requirement this is our little home away from home. And now I am inviting you here as well."
I look around the room shocked at how he can go from silly and infuriating to calm and serious in moments. Than I let the slight touristy feeling come over me. This is one of the castles secret areas since I've been enrolled here. This place has almost as many rumors about it as the chamber of secrets. "Who knows about this place?" I can't help it I want to know.
"Hermione, Luna, you, another friend of ours, and me. Of course the teachers know I'm just not sure if they know it is in use right now." he reaches out to a small container next to him and pulls out another butter beer. "I know I'm being pushy, but I want you to know if you need to talk about it I'm here."
He goes to continue, but I stop him. "And what do you know about it Harry? You lost your parents when you were too little to remember them. I remember hugging her as she went to work that day. So what are you going to tell me about it. It will get better over time, r how about it never goes away and to just remember the good instead of the bad. Do you honestly think nobody has said these things to me?" I can't talk anymore. I just cry. He some how has his arm around me. And I'm just soaking his shirt.
"Its okay. You're right I could say all those things to you and they all are true, but I won't. I just want you to know you can talk to me or if you need to you can come down here and destroy what ever you want in that room. It helps immensely I know because that is what I built it for." I can still feel his arms around me and my breathing is slowing down.
"When did you become able to handle crying girls. After last year with Cho, I figured you would have run at the site of one." I can feel him chuckle lightly.
"Well I had some help. I believe I got better when I was being an insensitive prat this summer. Hermione punched me than broke down the whole time telling me off on how my Godfathers death didn't just hit me hard." I can feel him tense at the last sentence, so I decide to leave the topic alone. Looking around I try and find anything to change the topic. I stare at all the bookcases in the room.
"So I can see Hermione's decorations." I blurt out while pointing at a set of bookcases in one of the corners.
"Actually those are mine. Hers are over there." To be honest I'm shocked. I don't know Harry well, but I'm sure avid reader is not him. And I don't know what to say to that. "Well you best get going before Hannah gets worried." I nod and walk towards the door he is pointing to. "Just take that door and walk up the steps in the next room through the trap door. The door in the small room you come in to leads to the third floor corridor. I'm sure you can find your way from there." I walk of and go to turn and say thank you to him, but I'm not sure if now is the right time. I make myself look happy and walk out the room to face the rest of the school leaving the content feeling of being myself with Harry.
A/N I hope it sparked enough interest that you feel like leaving a review and telling me ether why it sucks or why it was nice. I'll admit be weary of this one since Susan has come to her own with so many Molly Weasley fanon comparisons. Her character was so vague that I feel I didn't do her justice. Up next in Masks is Hannah Abbot in the Shy and timid Sheep. I hope to have it typed in at least a week I'm finding computer time to be a rarity lately.
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