Mattresses in the Hallway by C_A_Campbell
Chapter Notes: Author's Note: The OCs, Persephone and Valiant, are from my chaptered series Once There Was A Darkness, so some events within this story reflect those that happen during Year One of OTWAD. If you have not read the story, you may not understand the full context of some of these events. However, it's not necessary to have read OTWAD to enjoy this story and I hope you will read on.
"A true friend is one who thinks you are a good egg even if you are half-cracked." ~Author Unknown
Of all of Persephone Andreou’s atrocious roommates, Valiant Bloodmoon was the worst.
It was true that Daphne Greengrass was an arrogant, pureblooded pig. With the way she strutted around the castle as though she was the finest thing Hogwarts had ever seen, turned her pointed nose into the air, and snorted that laugh that if you listened quite right, sounded like an oink, Persephone was tempted to put her on a leash, take her to the nearest fairground, and see if she could win the blue ribbon with her. And Tracey Davis was so preoccupied as being seen as ‘one of the purebloods’ that she was too busy to have any sort of personality of her own. Both of them were perfectly odious, obnoxious, and boring in their own right. But Valiant Bloodmoon was the worst of them all.
Persephone had known it from the first time she’d met her.
Of course, Persephone hadn’t made that good of a first impression, but she still insisted that it was hardly her fault.
Really, who could blame her that she had been born with a curiosity that her father had called insatiable? Then again, her father, like his ancestors before him, had been a Ravenclaw and he often used big adjectives to describe things. Persephone hadn’t bothered to look up this word, but she suspected it meant ‘always causes trouble’.
It also wasn’t Persephone’s fault that the drawing pad had been laying on the bed in plain view. Of course, Persephone had known that it wasn’t her bed or her thing, but when her curiosity got piqued, propriety hardly mattered. She had been alone in the room so she had seen absolutely no harm in sneaking a peek. She thumbed through the drawings, marvelling at the sketches, so enchanted by the drawings of hippogriffs and dragons that she didn’t even hear the door open or footsteps approach.
A hand reached from behind her and whipped the pad out of her hands so swiftly that the page she had been holding sliced her finger. Persephone whirled about with a gasp. A dark-haired girl stood behind her. She had bangs so long they nearly covered her deep blue eyes, but Persephone could still manage to see the glare she wore impressively well. Eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, this girl was giving the same disgusted, furious expression that Persephone’s father always gave her when she had chosen the wrong thing to say to their guests, and he could just die from embarrassment. Only this girl looked like she was more ready to kill than die.
So Persephone did the only thing she could reasonably do when she had been caught red-handed. She turned the blame on others.
Inspecting her bleeding finger, she whined, “You gave me a paper cut.” Persephone stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking on the metallic taste of blood which was rather like sucking on a mouthful of Knuts.
The girl didn’t look the least bit sympathetic. Instead, she curled her lip back in a snarl that seemed to belong more on the face of a lioness than a human.
“Don’t you ever touch my things again!” she growled.
Persephone raised her eyebrows at the vicious tone in her voice. Merlin, the girl acted like she’d set fire to the thing, not just looked at it. “Okay, okay,” Persephone said, waving her hands as though dismissing a fly. “I was just looking at it. No need to go all mental about it.”
“Ever!” she growled again.
“Yeah,” Persephone agreed again, a little more annoyed. “I’m not deaf.”
The girl only turned her back on her. If Persephone had an ounce of the Ravenclaw intelligence, she might have let the girl be. But as her father often said, she was incorrigible. Persephone hadn’t looked that up either, but she thought it meant she was some sort of masochist.
“They’re really good drawings, you know,” Persephone said.
No response. Odd.
“My name is Persephone, by the way.” She rolled her eyes and added, “And please, no Greek goddess jokes. Believe me, I’ve heard them all.” Catching a ride with Hades any time soon? Going to walk and make the flowers grow? Finally back from the Underworld, I see. Seriously, some of the tutors her parents had hired were just cruel. She had known they had wanted her to understand the Greek mythology well, but verbal abuse wasn’t exactly what she would call fun-ducational.
But the girl didn’t look as though she was about to make a joke. In fact, as she eyed Persephone with that permanently narrowed gaze, Persephone was willing to bet her last Galleon that this girl wouldn’t know a joke if it broke her funny bone.
“Persephone, huh?” she asked, eyeing Persephone from head to toe with a sneer on her face.
Persephone shifted uncomfortably and nodded. Really, the girl shouldn’t look at people like that. She was going to start scaring people.
“Bugger off, Persephone!” With that, the girl flopped onto her bed and pulled the green curtain shut in Persephone’s face.
Persephone stood flabbergasted, so stunned by the girl’s rude nature that she couldn’t be properly offended for several minutes. And then she huffed and crossed her arms and stuck her tongue out at the closed curtain. Finally, she stormed away, murmuring, “And people call me rude.”
Persephone later learned the girl was named Valiant Bloodmoon. Persephone, however, only referred to her as Grumpy.
It was evident from that first meeting that there would be trouble ahead of them, because never had there been two girls more different. Persephone, the vibrant, charismatic gossip, and Valiant, the grumpy, bitter loner. With two such different personalities, they were bond to clash. Call it fate or destiny or just really bad timing, but because of that first terrible meeting, a war had begun.
Persephone liked to think that had she known what looking at one drawing pad might have started, and the chaos it would wreck on her life, she never would have dared glance at it. She would have turned around and never thought of it again. She would have willingly missed out on all that was to come.
Ha! Who was she kidding?
She wouldn’t have missed it for the world!
For a time, things were calm between the two girls, mainly because they liked to pretend the other didn’t exist. Valiant only glared as they passed each other in the hallway and Persephone only stuck out her tongue when Valiant’s back was turned. When they were actually in their room, Valiant mostly hid behind her curtain, drawing or doing schoolwork or whatever it was that demon children did. But Valiant wouldn’t have won the Worst Roommate in History Award for a few glares and anti-social behaviour.
Things were about to get worse.
It was two weeks into term when the first battle of the war was fought, and again Persephone insisted that it was in no way her fault. She had been lying on her bed after a stressful day of classes, during which she had managed to blow up a cauldron and transfigure her hand into a foot. She was flipping through the channels on her small radio, when her favourite Weird Sisters song had come on. Squealing with delight, Persephone cranked the volume up and leaped to her feet.
She bounced on her bed, pretending to hammer out the song on an invisible guitar, and belted the lyrics at the top of her longs. This was undoubtedly the best way to relieve stress.
That was until Grumpy came and ruined it all!
Valiant streaked out from behind her curtain, her mouth moving to words Persephone couldn’t hear over the music.
“What?” Persephone shouted, cupping her hand around her ear.
Valiant’s mouth moved again, but all Persephone heard was Myron’s angelic voice. Persephone, however, certainly understood the look written on Valiant’s face. She was furious.
“What?” Persephone yelled again. “I still can’t hear you!”
Valiant tried again, waving her hands in the air, but Persephone shook her head. She stooped and twisted the volume dial down.
“”BLOODY THING DOWN!”
Her scream echoed against the stone walls of the room so loudly, even Valiant winced as it reverberated in her ears. Persephone stared at her, her mouth agape. Valiant’s rudeness honestly knew no bounds, did it?
“There’s no need to yell about it, Grumpy,” Persephone said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Valiant glared. “Just keep it down.”
Persephone had waited eleven years to escape her parents and her sister, even asking the Sorting Hat to put her in house other than their Ravenclaw house, so she would no longer have anyone constantly telling her what to do. She wasn’t going to ruin that now. Because her father was right, she was rebellious. And that was one word she didn’t need a dictionary to define. She defined it just fine on her own.
Stooping again, she cranked the volume as loud as it would go, so loud that it caused the bed to shake and her ears to ache. “THAT BETTER?” she screamed.
Valiant called something that she couldn’t hear, but Persephone only cupped her hand around her ear in a silent sign. Valiant’s face turned bright red with rage and Persephone grinned triumphantly and stuck out her tongue. In response, Valiant gave her the finger and stormed from the room.
Persephone merely laughed.
She really did love this song.
Persephone Andreou was the worst roommate ever!
Valiant seethed as she stormed out of the common room. She aimed a kick at an unfortunate slab of stone, but the only thing that got her was a stubbed toe. She swore in pain and mentally called Persephone Andreou every wretched name she could think of.
A thousand Daphne Greengrass clones Valiant could have handled with only minor dismay. Millicent Bulstrode could have moved in and Valiant would have learned to live with it (aside for the occasional worry that her spiteful third cousin might strangle her in her sleep). Plague of locusts, boils, the death of every firstborn in Slytherin, and other plagues of biblical proportion, and Valiant would have understood.
But loud, annoying, snoring, ever-smiling, ever-happy, bloody, effing Persephone Andreou?
Dear God, how was that fair?
The girl was driving her crazy! She might have been named for a goddess, but she was the devil herself! Valiant had done her absolute best not to smother her in her sleep, but this time Persephone had finally pushed her too far. It was time for the mental child to learn that Valiant wasn’t someone to mess with.
It was why Valiant had issued the threat, or a fair warning if you preferred to call it that. It was hardly her fault if Persephone couldn’t hear her over the music.
Turn it down, Valiant had said, or you’re sleeping in the hallway tonight.
But Persephone hadn’t turned it down and Valiant never had been the sort to give empty threats.
Valiant felt a wicked smirk crawl across her face.
This was going to be fun.
All it took was a simple Levitation Charm.
The spell was nearly a month ahead in the first years’ curriculum, but Valiant had peeked ahead in her Charms book to locate the theory of how to use such a spell. It had taken several long hours that stretched long past bedtime to translate the theory into an accurate spell. Before she finally managed to levitate a goblet she’d set before her, Valiant had thrown her wand across the room several times, nearly snapped it in half twice, and screamed her frustration into a pillow exactly once. But finally the goblet rose up, hovered in the air, and followed her wand.
She set the goblet down and pointed her wand at the chair next to hers. Swish and flick. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The chair bobbed through the air.
A sound of pure delight came out of Valiant’s mouth that sounded oddly like a giggle. But it couldn’t be. Valiant Bloodmoon did not giggle.
As quietly as she could, Valiant slipped into her room and crept across the floor. She paused to listen to the breathing of her roommates, and when she distinguished Persephone’s whistle-like snore, Valiant knew she was indeed asleep. Stepping over Persephone’s slob of an area”another habit of hers, Valiant couldn’t stand, but there was scarcely anything about Persephone she could stand”Valiant stood beside her bed. Persephone uttered an innocent snort, rolled onto her stomach, and mumbled something about not wanting ‘to wear the gray dress, Mummy.’
Valiant rolled her eyes at the pathetic sight and pointed her wand at the mattress beneath Persephone. With a swish, flick, and whispered incantation, the mattress lifted from the frame, the slumbering Persephone still balanced on top. Valiant directed her wand towards the open door and the mattress floated through the air. Valiant’s hand shook and the mattress trembled. She stilled herself and then bit hard on her tongue, glancing anxiously at Persephone. The girl fidgeted, then with a sigh, buried her face deeper into her pillow.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Valiant walked the mattress towards the door. It was a tight squeeze to get the mattress through, but finally it was in the hallway. She lowered her wand, and the mattress followed, resting on the floor with Persephone still tangled up in her blankets, snoring like an angel.
A smirk crawled up Valiant’s face and she very nearly allowed the strange sound out of her mouth again, but swallowed it back. Merlin, vengeance was sweet!
“Nighty, night, Persephone,” Valiant whispered with a cold laugh as she walked back into the room, closed the door, and locked it for good measure.
Persephone was having an absurd dream about dancing pineapples and a large singing apple in the shape of Myron Wagtail’s head when she heard giggling. As Persephone felt herself waking, she groaned and seized her pillow, pulling it over her head. But the obnoxious, high-pitched giggling didn’t fade.
“Go away, Daphne,” she growled through clenched teeth.
The laughter only grew louder, turning from a single voice to two. Two turned into three, and then as though laughter had suddenly become pink eye, it had spread contagiously into a dozen voices. Persephone startled at the many voices. What had Greengrass done? Invited the entire dormitory into their room?
Persephone whipped the pillow off of her head and sat up. Girls, from first to seventh years, gathered around her. Some pointed and laughed, some hid their giggles politely behind their hands, while others were stooped over as if this was the best joke since the one about the Muggle and the light bulb. Beyond them, she found familiar stone, but not the stone walls of her room. There was no green curtains here to break the mundane gray. There were just stone and stone and stone, broken by the line of doors. Persephone was in the hallway...on her mattress...surrounded by the population of Slytherin girls.
Her first thought was that this would make a juicy piece of gossip. Her second thought was that her life was over, because the gossip was going to be about her! The third thought was that she was going to kill whichever roommate did this to her!
And there they were, her three despicable roommates, opening up their door. They paused as they saw the crowd, and then Daphne and Tracey began shoving their way through the crowd. Valiant, however, took her time, following in the pathway they cleared, as though she knew exactly what she would find. The three pushed to the front. Daphne and Tracey gaped down at her for a long moment, then Daphne shrieked her oinking laugh and her little shadow, Tracey, joined her.
Valiant didn’t laugh, but grinned her evil little smile, looking like she had just crawled straight out of hell to be Persephone’s personal demon. And it was then, looking at Valiant’s victorious smile, that Persephone understood who was to blame for this entire situation.
“You did this!” Persephone cried, pointing her finger up at her angrily.
Valiant didn’t deny it. She only walked to the edge of mattress and stooped down, putting her face into Persephone’s and puffing her hot morning breath into her face. Her vicious eyes were narrowed into a glare, and Persephone glared right back.
“Maybe next time,” Valiant said, her words as cold as her frigid, black heart, “you’ll keep your music down.”
With that, Valiant flounced away. Persephone heaved the pillow at her head, but it missed and collided with the stomach of a particularly scary looking seventh year. Really, living in the dungeon for seven years couldn’t be conducive to someone’s health if they ended up looking like a female troll. The seventh year picked up the pillow and heaved it back. It struck Persephone head so hard it knocked her back onto the mattress.
Persephone laid there, her head covered with the pillow that muffled the laughter of her housemates. She wished the world would open and swallow her whole, but since it didn’t, she could only lie there, pondering a word. Just one word.
VILE: adj.
Definition: see VALIANT.
It was an undeniable fact of life that if you wanted to learn anything about anyone or anything, you didn’t go to the library as a Ravenclaw would. What could stuffy old books tell you about the important things of life? No, it wasn’t in the dusty shelves of the library where knowledge could be found. It was in the stalls of the girl’s lavatory that you could find the truth, or at the very least, a more interesting version of the truth.
It was there that girls seemed to feel the most at ease to spill their secrets. As the older students fixed their make-up, they talked about their dates and their friends’ dates and how much a back-stabber Olivia was for snogging an ex-boyfriend. It was there where younger students, while pretending they had makeup to fix, talked about boys and tests and which girls were stuffing their bras. Pansy Parkinson, Persephone always suggested. Totally.
Sometimes, Persephone would even stumble upon juicier pieces of information. For example, she discovered the prank that was being planned against Professor Quirrell (wearing fake vampire fangs and hiding behind his desk would certainly scare him out of his turban.); the brief fling between Madam Hooch and Professor Kettleburn and how she had left him for someone with both his arms; and Argus Filch being found in a compromising position with Mrs Norris. Admittedly, there were things Persephone didn’t want to know.
Yes, good, bad, ugly or bloody hilarious, if it happened at Hogwarts, it could be found out in the girl’s bathroom. And as much as Persephone thrived on the gossip, she had to admit that there were some things that should never be whispered, even in a place as sacred as the loo.
Like the Slytherin first year who had been found in sleeping the hallway.
Persephone glared at a couple of Gryffindor third years who had just been told the story by some random Hufflepuff, or at least, a highly-exaggerated version of the truth. All three were giggling as they dabbed on lip balm.
“It’s not funny!” Persephone shrieked at them, ignoring the fact that if it hadn’t been her this unfortunate thing had happened, she would have been rolling on the floor laughing. She turned her hot gaze on the Hufflepuff. “And I was not sucking my thumb!”
They only blinked at her, rolled their eyes, recapped their lip balm, and walked out of the bathroom, their laughter drifting back to Persephone’s ears.
Persephone turned back to the mirror and practised her most vicious glare. There it was. Eyes mere slits. She let her hate and anger boil through until the thin line of gray looked like smouldering cool. A glare like that would make the Bloody Baron drop dead with fright. Wait until she got the chance to give it to Valiant.
But this wasn’t why she had come to the girl’s loo. And being here wasn’t just about skipping Charms so she could hide from all her classmates’ mocking stares. Persephone was on a mission. Valiant would pay for the embarrassment she’d caused!
Granted the loo was a pretty strange place to plot revenge, but Persephone had learned more in this bathroom that she had in her classrooms. So when searching for a devious plan to get back at Valiant, there was no better place to get info than from the steady stream of girls who went in and out of the bathroom. Trust her when Persephone said there were some cold-hearted witches at Hogwarts. Some of the things they suggested Persephone didn’t think even she could do morally.
But one doe-eyed Muggle-born was very passionate about pranks and their evils, probably because she herself had been the victim of more than a few. She pulled at her mound of straw-like hair and ranted about all the terrible things her cousins had done to her over the years. One trick in particular caught Persephone’s attention.
“How did you say it worked again?” Persephone asked, leaning forward from where she was perched on the edge of one of the sinks.
And the girl told her. As she neared the end of the story and told of the embarrassing result, the girl glared, looking offended. “Why are you smiling? It isn’t funny!”
Persephone couldn’t wipe the impish smile from her face. “But it’s perfect!” Persephone said. “Perfect!” She dodged the offended girl’s slap, leaped down, and skipped from the bathroom.
And the best part was, all she needed was some warm water.
Persephone laid awake for over two hours, just to be sure Valiant would be sleeping. Valiant always slept with her curtains pulled shut, so Persephone didn’t know for certain. But finally, Persephone felt brave enough to sneak a peek behind the green curtain. Sure enough, there lay Sleeping Ugly, fast asleep on her back, drool on her cheek, waiting for some hideous troll to give her the snog of death”at least, Persephone thought that was how the Muggle fairytale her sister had once read to her went.
Sure that Valiant was asleep, Persephone moved into the next phase of her plan. Pulling her cauldron from beneath her bed, she carried it out of the room and into the Slytherin girl’s loo. She started the tap, tested its temperature, and filled the cauldron with water that was nice and warm. She grinned down at her reflection in the water, completely convinced that her Head of House wouldn’t have approved much of her using her potions tool for such dastardly plans.
She carried the much-heavier cauldron back to her room, spilling it down the front of her jimjams. She set the cauldron beside Valiant’s bed and pulled the curtain back quietly, ensuring the girl was still asleep. Persephone took the girl’s wrist and lowered her hand off the bed and into the warm water.
Trying to suppress a tirade of giggles, Persephone hurried back to her bed and buried herself in the blankets. Only her eyes peeked out of the blankets, watching Valiant to see if she would awake. Valiant groaned and shifted her hand out of the water, but stayed fast asleep. Persephone sighed in disappointment; she would have to wait until the morning to see if her prank had worked.
Persephone fell asleep to dreams of Valiant’s screams.
Even before Valiant awoke, she knew something was wrong. She was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t until she was fully conscious that she realized why.
Wet.
Her sheets and her pants were both wet, and there was a telltale odour in the air. But no, it wasn’t possible! She’d never been one to wet to the bed, never! But there was no denying what she felt.
Valiant wanted to swear and scream her anger. She couldn’t believe this was happened to her! But she knew such sounds would wake her roommates. So she only lay completely still, mortified. She eventually willed herself to move. None of her roommates were awake yet; she should still have time to hide all the discriminating evidence, if she could change and hide the sheets and blankets. And one thing was for certain: no one could ever, ever know about this.
Especially not that filthy, gossiping Persephone. She’d never let her live it down!
Valiant stood, careful not to let the floor creak beneath her weight.
The most horrible sound erupted in the room. The alarm clock. Valiant froze as, in unison, all three of her roommates awoke. Daphne groaned and sat up, Tracey stumbled groggily to her feet, and Persephone popped one eye open. Persephone’s other eye came open and a grin spread up her lips. It was a crappy grin, wicked and mischievous, and Valiant glared. What was that wicked beast up to now?
“Sleep well, Grumpy?” Persephone asked. There was a sickening sweetness in her voice. Like too much syrup on treacle pudding.
Valiant ignored her and turned her attention to Daphne who was climbing out of her bed. Valiant felt her heart sink into her stomach and her cheeks turn red, knowing there was nothing she could do other than wait for the humiliation.
It came with three horrifying words.
“What’s that smell?” Daphne wrinkled her nose, took another experimental sniff, then pinched her nostrils shut. “Ew!”
“I don’t know,” Persephone said, a cheekiness in her tone. “Why don’t you ask Valiant?”
Valiant turned her sharp gaze towards Persephone, and Persephone’s grin widened. She knew! It was impossible! But the evil, little, music-whore knew! Valiant opened her mouth to scream in rage, but Daphne’s gasp stopped her.
Daphne pointed an accusing finger at the front of Valiant’s trousers. Her mouth dropped open, first in horror, and then in amusement. “Valiant wet the bed!” she shrieked in delight. “Valiant’s a bed-wetter!”
Daphne laughed, clapped her hands, and continued her ever mature rant. “Valiant’s a bed-wetter!” Tracey ignored the situation in discomfort. And Persephone rolled on her bed, laughing so hard she was nearly crying.
Valiant burned with embarrassment and rage, but it was the latter of the three girls she chose to take her aggression out on. “Why you little”“ she growled, as she leapt over her bed in an attempt to reach her. As she landed on the other side, her toe struck something hard. Pain shot through her foot as a cauldron tumbled over, splashing water across the floor. The river flowed before her, reflecting Valiant’s red-hot face.
The suspicion that Persephone had been behind this changed into knowing. Valiant’s glare turned lethal, so deadly that Persephone’s laughter died in her throat. Valiant lunged after her and Persephone did the smartest thing she had done in her entire life.
She ran, shrieking, for the door.
Valiant didn’t pursue her. She was a Slytherin and she had better ways of getting her revenge.
Okay, Andreou. You want to play dirty; I’ll show you dirty.
Granted, spending every Knut she had on revenge was a bit extreme, even for Valiant. But as she counted out the last Knut that she had stolen from her father’s limited stores into the hands of a couple of greedy third years, Valiant had the sense that it would be worth it. She pocketed the potion and hurried out of the shadows in the dungeons where the exchange had been made.
Now all that was left was to wait until that night, when Persephone fell asleep. Her doom was set in stone.
The problem was that Persephone seemed to know it. That night, Valiant made her move hours after the girls had gone to bed. She pulled the curtain aside to find Persephone bolting upright. The two girls stared at one another, Valiant glaring, Persephone trying to do the same but with her eyes just a little too wide. There were no excuses; Persephone knew exactly what Valiant was up to. She knew Valiant wouldn’t stop until she had the revenge she craved.
They remained awake and stared at each other with increasingly-tired eyes, neither willing to give in to the other, until the alarm clock chirped the next morning.
The two girls dressed, stumbling from exhaustion, never turning their backs on each other. Valiant took a step towards her and Persephone jumped and fled from the room. Valiant grinned. She really liked doing that.
She wasn’t concerned that Persephone knew what she was up to. Valiant was good on surviving with little to no sleep, but Persephone would have to sleep eventually, as was proved during Transfiguration that day. Professor McGonagall was only halfway through her lecture when Persephone slumped forward on her open text, snoring her whistle-like snore. Drool trailed down her cheek, staining the ink of her book. Valiant grinned as a furious-looking Professor McGonagall spotted her and descended like a hawk.
“Miss Andreou,” McGonagall said, clearing her throat. After saying her name three more times to no better response, McGonagall gave her a firm shake. “Miss Andreou!”
Persephone flung her head upwards. “Zeus wants my marmalade!” she cried, clearly far from awake.
The classroom burst into laughter and Valiant joined them with a mocking guffaw of her own. Persephone turned scarlet.
“Quiet!” McGonagall ordered the class, and as they stifled their noise, she glared through her glasses like a cat staring at an unlucky mouse. “Thank you for sharing, Miss Andreou. However, sleeping is not on the curriculum for this semester or any semester in my class. I’m afraid that will cost your house five points.”
The majority of the Slytherins groaned and sent her glares, looking as though they were ready to kill Persephone. Well, get in line behind me, Valiant thought.
Valiant’s opportunity came that very night. After another staring match that lasted three long hours, Persephone finally slumped against her headboard and began to snore. Valiant waited until she was sure that she wouldn’t awake, then stood from her bed and pulled the potion from her pocket.
I win, Andreou. I win.
Chapter Endnotes: Thanks to my betas!