Hide & Seek

Chapter 15 - Similitude

Chapter 15
SIMILITUDE

similitude
(n.) likeness, a resemblance

THE tenth crumpled ball of parchment met the Owlery floor, rolling to an unsteady stop on the dropping-covered stone. It bumped casually over the straw, coming to rest alongside its companions. 

Gemma groaned, running her hands through her hair in frustration. It was void of its usual silk ribbon, the sordid headache throbbing against her temples had begged for its absence, and she'd happily obliged as soon as she'd escaped from her last class of the day. 

The entirety of her Friday evening had been spent writing, and rewriting, a letter to her mother back home in West Country. She'd been putting it off for weeks, but with the way news spread in the Wizarding world, Gemma knew it wasn't long before someone else told her mother what had happened, and if she wanted to break the news first she'd have to do it sooner rather than later. 

How does one go about telling their family that despite all the restrictions, rules, and spells, they'd somehow still managed to get themselves entered into a potentially very dangerous tournament and that they had no choice but to compete?

Every time Gemma managed to get something onto the paper that didn't sound too dreadful, she'd scratched it out and started over again.

Mum,

I regret to inform you that I have been chosen to participate in a bloody ridiculous tournament in which I may die. It may intrigue you to know that my death will most likely be an extremely embarrassing public affair, and I personally would recommend suspending our Prophet subscription for the remainder of the year.

Hope you and Gideon are well!

No, that sounded pathetic. Gemma tossed the ruined letter aside all the others, setting down her quill on the stone ledge where she was seated.

She may as well just write her own eulogy and send the clippings to her mother in advance. Gemma's head gave another pulsating ache, and she shut her eyes tightly against the pressure. 

There was no way she was going to make it the entire year like this.

The past two and a half weeks since her name had mysteriously emerged out of the flaming goblet had been spent under constant stress and worry. The sick spiral had started when Colin Creevey had interrupted her Potions lessons on the first of November to drag her and Harry to the wand weighing ceremony.

She and the rest of the champions had been berated for what felt like forever, questions flying at them like pesky pixies from all directions. Albeit, no one was questioned as much as Harry.

 Finally, after hours of being rearranged in nearly every possible formation for photos by the Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter, Gemma and Harry had returned to the Great Hall starving and jelly-legged. 

The article still hadn't come out, but Gemma didn't particularly want to see it anyway. She was more than happy to pretend like the entire ordeal was all just some sordid joke. 

Not that all the gossip that had been swarming the halls would let her. 

It seemed as though almost everyone was thoroughly convinced that both Harry and Gemma had teamed up in order to enter their own names, two little partners in crime. Those who were not their housemates did not seem too keen about the matter, and took it upon themselves to make their stances known whenever they had the opportunity. 

The Slytherins had taken up a crafting hobby, crude pins suddenly adorning their uniform robes spouting awful sayings and images. Potter Stinks! and Boo Bane! was permanently burned into her retinas.