The Wild Side

4. Insults, drowning and public humiliation

Monday was sunny. Electra was stretched out on the grass like a cat, her black hair shinning and her pink extensions bright in the midday sun. Sabbedoria had a book curled in her lap, her currently red colour intensified by the light rays. Audrey sat, her green eyes trailed on the students as they made their way to the various groups of students gathered near the lake. Maxi was absent; she was recovering from a werewolf bite (don’t ask) in the hospital wing, and Sequin next to me, tearing at the grass.

Tut, tut, tut. Destructive girl.

“Seriously, I think Snape isn’t all evil.” Her ignorant comment was greeted with a mass of groans. Gleefully, I aimed a bit of my sandwich at her. To my delight the others followed suite. Picking bits of various types of food out of her bright pink hair, she continued to demonstrate her lack of common sense and try to explain herself. “What?” she protested, “I just think he hates Gryffindores.”

Audrey snorted, “That does make him evil.”

I couldn’t agree more. “True dat,” I told her, picking some left over cheese off my sister’s skirt. Sequin gave me a little flick, much like you’d shoo a fly. I had half a second to act annoyed when Sabbedoria interrupted me.

“Umm Sequin?” I crossed my fingers and hoped she’d say something like ‘don’t flick your sister, you delinquent.’

No such luck.

“Yeah?” Sequin asked.

“You have vegemite and cheese sandwich in your hair.” Yay. My saviour.

Sequin shrieked and pulled bits of crust out of her hair. Serves her right, the flicker.

“Aw, Sabby,” I cried, “We were waiting how long it would take for her to figure out.” I bit my tongue before I added; ‘because she’s a Hufflepuff.’ Sequin pouted.

“You guys are mean.”

Sabbedoria’s expression turned stormy as she glared at someone walking by. “Speaking of mean,” she spat, “Guess who’s coming our way.” She looked at him again, distain clear in her eyes, “Ignore him if he says anything.”

Sequin threw a conflicted glance at both of them. “Why do guys hate each other?” She muttered to herself, tearing bits of grass into tiny pieces. Sabbedoria took this comment to heart and in turn looked deeply offended.

“Because he’s a moronic twit!” She cried, a little too loud, “How he ever got into Ravenclaw I’ll never know.” Her voice had raised several octaves and I wasn’t sure if she noticed. In fact, her little outbursts earned the looks of several people surrounding us.  Anthony swaggered over, his arms crossed over his chest. His crisp, clean school uniform was meticulously ironed, in true Ravenclaw spirit. 

“Well I don’t know how you were sorted,” He sneered, walking over to our group, “but I was sorted the conventional way, by the sorting hat.” Sabbedoria shot up, her now red hair blazing. 

"And I'm so glad that my head didn't have to come in contact with a hat that touched your head,” She spat, “ in fact, I'm surprised that hat actually fit, what with how swollen your big head is."

There were mere centimetres between them. They were nose to nose, Anthony taller that Sabbedoria but Sabbedoria still looking threatening. They were close. Close enough to kiss.

Woah. Getting rid of that freaky thought. Oh, God. I’m turning into Sequin.

"At least mine didn't have to touch your freaky hair!" Our whole group sucked in a collective breath. You do not insult Sabbedoria’s hair. It’s just one of those things. Like how you don’t let Sequin skip breakfast unless you want a grumpy Hufflepuff on your heels.