January 2nd, 1942
Upon entering the Great Hall today, it seemed as if a dark cloud had descended over Hogwarts. There was a slight feeling of foreboding in the air - not at all like the merriment and cheerfulness everyone felt at the Christmastide celebration. The only thing that could warrant such an emotion was if something atrocious had happened in the wizarding world - something most likely involving Grindelwald, I'm sure.
Aside from all the negativity, today I had my first tutoring session with Hagrid. I certainly don’t regret taking Dumbledore up on his offer, but tutoring is definitely going to take up most of the little time I have....
---
As she sat down at the table for breakfast, the owls delivered their mail. Her worst fears were confirmed: Grindelwald had indeed struck again.
"Mass murders linked to Grindelwald and the Knights; Muggles becoming increasingly suspicious" was the headline on The Daily Prophet this morning. By that time, Hagrid slowly wandered over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Marcella. Miriam couldn’t help but still feel bad for him. Though it had been almost a month since his father's passing, he didn't seem much like himself any more. Rather he was down and depressed. It didn't help the situation any that most of the other kids were still afraid of him because he was so much bigger than most of the other students. It was hard on Miriam to watch him continue on like this.
That day after classes, she began her first tutoring session with Hagrid in the semi-empty Gryffindor common room.
"Hagrid?" she called out. He looked up from his homework, his big black eyes looking as if he had been crying very recently.
"Wha'?" he finally asked.
"I - I just wanted to say that I'm very, very sorry to hear about your father."
"'hanks," he croaked, his eyes becoming progressively moist again. Using his large hand, he gently wiped his eyes and sighed. "Me father was a good man. Me mother, yeh see, wasn't the maternal type, and she left when I was a baby. It was jus' dad and me. Grew close to him, y'know."
Miriam felt her own eyes becoming wet, but she dabbed them quickly before he could see.
“Are you tutorin’ me today?” he asked.
“Yeah, if that’s okay.”
After she said it, she wanted to kick herself as she realized just how insensitive it probably sounded at that moment. But instead of giving her an angry glare, Hagrid looked quite relieved. "Yeh'd don’ know how much 'his means ta me," his gruffy voice replied.
Miriam smiled softly as she nodded her head. “What do you want me to help you with first?”
"Me transfiguration 'omework?"
Nodding her head again, Miriam came over and sat down next to Hagrid. He passed her some of his papers and straightaway she began pouring over them.
~*~
Once a few hours had elapsed, Miriam had gone over every bit of his homework ranging from History of Magic, to Potions, and everything else in between making numerous corrections to them. As Miriam stood up from her seat, her legs and bottom were feeling quite numb from all the sitting she had just done. Rubbing her bottom in hopes of getting some feeling back in there again, she yawned, said good-night to Hagrid, and headed up to the girls' dormitories to get ready to turn in for the night.
When she was halfway up the stairs, Hagrid called out her name. Turning around, she looked down at the gentle giant with the bushy black hair.
"'hank yeh very much," he called out.
Miriam smiled. "Think nothing of it."
Collapsing on her bed, she was too wound up to go to sleep at the moment, though she was very tired. Deciding to finally write a letter to the two girls in Hawaii she believed to be her relatives, she pulled out a piece of paper from her nightstand and took a quill and began writing.
January 13th, 1942
Friday the thirteenth. Synonymous with bad luck and everything awful that goes along with it. It makes perfect sense that today I played my worst Quidditch game ever!
---
“This game will go down in history as probably the worst game Gryffindor ever played!” Patrick Jones announced after the Gyrffindor team suffered a major defeat of one hundred to two hundred fifty by Ravenclaw. Miriam was completely disappointed in herself as she knew she could have played a much better game had she practiced more. It was a known fact that she had missed all of their team practices the past week and a half.
Though her teammates were clearly upset, they never once complained to her. They knew she had an over booked schedule, but they didn’t know quite what it contained. As she changed her clothes in the locker room, she knew she’d have to make drastic changes in order to save the face of her house team.
Once the team had changed back into their school robes, she called an unexpected meeting. "This emergency Quidditch meeting is now in session," Miriam announced grimly. "As you may not know, this past December I accepted an offer to help a friend in need... and well," she sighed, "it's time I reorganized my priorities.”
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I hereby resign as captain of the Gryffindor team."
Shocked and dismayed were the only words that could adequately convey the expressions on the team members' faces that very moment. Finally, after the initial shock wore off, Aaron Wood spoke up. "Why can't you just reorganaize your schedule to fit Quidditch in?"
"I've tried!" she exclaimed. "Ever since my third year I've been delicately balancing my schedule. But since taking on the responsibilities of Quidditch captain and helping to tutor Hagrid -"
"You're tutoring Hagrid?" Aaron interrupted, mildly surprised.
"Yes, and since then, I have absolutely no free time whatsoever. Even my homework is starting to fall behind. That’s why I’ve been missing so many Quidditch practices recently."
"Are you still going to be on the team?" Carl Potter suddenly inquired.
"That brings me to my next thing," she answered slowly as she knew what their responses and reactions was going to be like regarding her next bit of info. "No. Unfortunately, I have to quit the team as well."
She glanced around the room waiting for her second blow to take effect. Noticing Marcella's eyes were suddenly shiny, she felt a pang of guilt, like she was a traitor to her team.
“You just can’t let one bad performance shape your opinion. You’re still a good leader,” Marcella whispered, her cheeks wet.
“I still love Quidditch, and I’ll give it one more shot on the twenty-first, but I think it would be better if I left the captaincy position to someone who could spend more time with the team. Since Gryffindor won’t be playing another game after that until February, it’ll give you ample time to find a new chaser and train them. And with that, I’ll name the new captain.”
“Who’re you going to pick?” Aaron asked.
She looked between Aaron and Carl and sighed. “I don’t know yet. You two are the veterans of the team. Picking only one is going to be tough.”
“So, who will it be?” Aaron inquired.
“I’ll give you my decision soon.”
~*~
Deciding who should take her place weighed heavily on her mind that night. As she went to sleep, she dreamed that the entire Gryffindor team had disbanded and everyone in her house had blamed her for it.
“You’re such a bad friend!” Marcella screamed. “You cost us the Quidditch cup!”
At the sound of her friend’s voice, she awoke with quite a start over such an awful dream.
January 21st, 1942
Okay, tonight was officially the WORST game we’ve ever played. It even beat out the game on Friday the 13th - that’s how bad it was.
Hufflepuff creamed us three hundred seventy-five to one hundred.
---
“Okay, that was the worst game we’ve ever played,” Miriam sighed as she looked out onto her team mates all sitting in the locker room. “The time has come for us to find a captain who can devote adequate time to the team.”
With that, she unceremoniously took off her badge and tossed it into the air above Aaron and Carl. Aaron hurriedly leapt up first from his seat and caught it in his hand. Miriam walked slowly back into the changing room, listening to the excited cheers of Aaron as he danced around, proudly showing off his new badge.
January 28th, 1942
Giving up Quidditch was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I feel like I’ve just ripped my heart out. I don’t know if I’m just a glutton for punishment or what, but today I went out to watch the team practice. They seem to be getting along fine without me. I couldn’t help but feel slightly depressed, watching them practice and all. One could look at it as if I had truly deserted my team, but I prefer look at it as if I gave them a fresh start.
Another good thing about it is that Hagrid’s grades are improving dramatically. Yet, I still feel a big part of me is missing....
The only thing that HAS completely cheered me up is planning my revenge on my worthless, good-for-nothing brother, whom I haven’t spoken to since the Christmastide celebration.
Just because I haven’t spoken to him doesn’t mean I haven’t THOUGHT of him... hee hee....
---
"You know you have to extract revenge for what he did at the Christmastide celebration," Marcella said that evening in the common room. Sophie nodded her head eagerly in agreement.
"Oh, I will, don't sweat it," Miriam replied, a devious smile tugging at her lips. “Revenge is best attended when the other person won’t suspect it.”
"We know that look!" Sophie exclaimed, noticing her obvious smirk. "You have something planned, don't you?"
"Of course," she answered, pulling out a small blue vial from inside her robe. "And it will be all thanks to this little beauty right here."
"What is it?" Marcella asked, her eyes wide with excitement.
"I can't tell you, but you'll soon find out. Just keep your eyes peeled."
~*~
That night after their dinner in the Great Hall, Miriam snatched a large blueberry muffin from the table and hid it carefully in her robe. Walking out of the Great Hall with the rest of her classmates, she quietly strolled out of sight and into a deserted hallway.
Oh, revenge is so sweet....
She opened the blue vial and used her finger to gouge a small hole deep into the side of the blueberry muffin, and poured the vial’s contents into the muffin. Covering the hole back up with some of the surrounding muffin she had gouged out, she hid the tainted muffin in her pocket and inconspicuously made her way back into the main hallway as if nothing had happened.
Now the only part of her plan left was to find Tom, make sure he was alone, and make him eat the muffin. To someone watching, it might have looked like she was trying to poison him, but that was furthest from her mind. She had something much more appalling, something... deliciously sick and twisted in her mind....
Looking all over Hogwarts, she finally spotted him in a vacant classroom with some of his school books sitting out.
Aw, this is just too easy, she thought.
"Tom?" she called out, making sure any trace of something despicable was completely ridden from her face. He looked up at her and asked her what she wanted.
"I was just wondering what you're up to," she asked innocently.
"Just going over some things for school."
"Can't you do that in your common room?"
"Too noisy," he mumbled.
"Well look, if you want, I snatched you a blueberry muffin in case you get hungry." Miriam pulled out the tainted muffin and placed it in front of him on the desk.
"Hey, thanks!" he replied. He picked up the muffin and took a big bite. Shaking his head, he sat down behind the desk and pulled his school books closer.
That potion should begin to work any time now....
Tom began to blink repeatedly. "Wow," he commented, eating the last bite of his muffin, "you'd think I didn't get enough sleep or something."
Miriam innocently shrugged her shoulders as she continued on with her clever ruse.
He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I better... just..." He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence as he fell off his chair and onto the floor in a heap. Miriam looked behind the desk and saw Tom fast asleep (and snoring heavily) on the floor.
"Good night and pleasant dreams, dear brother," she said smirking as she pulled something else out from inside her robe....
~*~
When Tom awoke a little while later, he rubbed his head and wondered how long he'd been asleep. His head was pounding as he slowly got to his feet. Gathering his books he left the empty classroom and set out for the Slytherin common room. Looking at his watch, he realized he had only been asleep for about forty-five minutes.
"I better get back to the common room, or I'm going to be in deep trouble," he mumbled. He walked back through the hallway that led to the Great Hall. Completely unbeknownst to him, Miriam was hiding just around the corner with her friends, whom she had convinced to stay behind so they could see her trick unfold.
“This is going to be good,” Miriam whispered to her friends, who were trying to repress their curiosity.
As Tom made his way down the hallway, who should appear, but none other than Peeves the Poltergeist himself.
"Oh, poor Tom mustn't be well. He's not looking all that swell. Poor Peeves must take pity, as baby Widdle looks so pretty!"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Tom demanded, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not pretty!”
Miriam had to bit her lip to keep from laughing. Sophie and Marcella gaped at the spectacle that was their friend's brother. They truly couldn't believe what they were seeing.
"Take a look in a mirror, and you'll see, just how little Tommy is pretty as can be!" replied Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.
"Get away from me," he yelled, swinging a few of his books at the poltergeist. "Don't make me get the Bloody Baron!"
Peeves suddenly looked horror struck. "You're no fun!" He gave Tom a wet raspberry, then flew high into the air and nose-dived into the ground beside Tom. Miriam heard her brother mutter "Idiot" as he moved on. As he continued down the hallway, a group of Ravenclaw students emerged through a side doorway busily talking amongst themselves, but they stopped abruptly when they saw Tom coming toward them.
Miriam couldn't see exactly what Tom was doing as he now had his back toward her, but she could see the confused looks and expressions coming from the Ravenclaws.
Oh, this is so priceless....
"What are you staring at?" he snapped, starting to become rather annoyed by their constant staring. One of the girls in the group was Myrtle Vranda who spoke up, her voice dripping with the slight tone of screechy hostility.
"Did Libby do that to you?”
Another girl, with black hair and almond-shaped eyes whom Miriam knew was Emily Chang, contributed, "Tom, why in Merlin’s beard did you change your look... to that?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I look exactly the same as I did this morning!" he exclaimed.
"Whatever," Emily Chang replied, rolling her eyes.
The Ravenclaws continued walking past Tom. All the boys in the group were holding their stomach as they laughed and jeered at him. Tom was starting to get an uneasy feeling, like something just wasn't quite right. Maybe there truly was something wrong with his appearance.
As he touched his face and lips (amid heavy snickering from Miriam and her friends), he felt something strange. Looking at his hand he saw something rather peculiar staining them - there was a reddish streak on his finger tips. Realizing that something definitely wasn't right, he ran all the way to the boys' restroom and gasped at his reflection the mirror.
He... he appeared to have... make-up on his face! Outraged at such a thing, he mulled over how exactly it could have gotten on him. After a moment, it had hit him. Anger swelled up inside him, his blood boiling, as he raged out of the restroom and shouted, "MIRIAM! DAMN YOU!" at the top of his lungs.
Still in their hiding spot and now wiping tears of laughter from their eyes as the sound of her brother's furious voice filled the air, Miriam and her friends stumbled over themselves in a state of delusional rejoicing as they headed back to the Gryffindor common room.
"That was the best thought out revenge I've ever seen!" complimented Sophie.
It was most unfortunate though, that her brother didn't share the same sentiments about it.
February 4th, 1942
Tom has made it an even stronger point to ignore me now whenever possible... even during classes. If we should be in the same room, he’ll immediately walk out. But when he looks at me with his friends around him, his face turns a deep shade of crimson.
---
That little escapade on the twenty-eighth spread throughout the school faster than anything she had ever seen before. Tom could hardly enter the Great Hall without being teased.
"Lookin' good!" someone yelled. Tom had just entered the Great Hall when the ridiculing had commenced. This had been going on non-stop since the day when Miriam had extracted her most evil revenge on him over the debacle at the Christmastide celebration. Sure, it seemed a little mean, but it was well worth it, she thought.
From where Miriam was sitting at the table, she could hear Tom mutter, "Shut-up" in retaliation to the leers he was receiving. She quickly had to turn away from him as he passed by so he couldn't see the tears in the corners of her eyes or hear her desperately trying not to snicker. Marcella and Sophie couldn't even look at each other because if they did, they wouldn't have been able to keep it in either.
Miriam turned around just enough to see Tom still walking toward the Slytherin table, but now amid the catcalling Ravenclaws. A red-haired girl from the Ravenclaw table stood up and taunted, "What's the matter Tom? We absolutely loved your new look! Why don’t you keep it for us?"
"Shut-up," he warned her.
"Are you going to hit me with your handbag if I don't?"
Tom grumbled but ignored her and continued on his way. The red-headed girl didn't give up though. "It's perfectly acceptable for a boy to get in touch with his feminine side!"
That was the final straw. Tom rapidly turned around, his eyes ablaze and his body shaking uncontrollably as if he could scarcely restrain himself. "Just shut the bloody hell up! All of you!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. The Great Hall suddenly became deathly quiet; a simple fork dropping would have sounded like bomb going off.
He stormed out of the Great Hall and didn't bother to return for the rest of the evening.