Sirens

Chapter 5

Walking By Myself

Dean kept giving Seamus sulky looks as he sat on the common room sofa with Callista's head on his shoulder. Seamus felt very smug indeed. It was Dean's own fault Ginny dumped him, and he couldn't help it if he now had a girlfriend when Dean didn't. It also helped that his girlfriend was the most beautiful girl in the year, possibly the school.

"What are you thinking, Shay?" asked Callista, smiling up at him with those blue eyes that he found so hauntingly lovely.

However the niceness of Callista's eyes was not enough to drown out the irritation Seamus always felt when she asked him this question. What are you thinking? God it bugged him. Why did girls have to ask stupid questions like that? Did they expect the truth? Was he about to admit that what he was actually thinking was, "Haha I have a really hot girlfriend while Dean is alone?" No he was not. And if anyone believed that people genuinely admitted what they were thinking they were incredibly gullible.

But his need to please Callista was greater than his annoyance at her question, so he said, "I was thinking how lucky I am to have you." Not too loudly, however. He didn't want rumours of his soppiness round the school, no thanks.

Callista beamed at him, and kissed him. Seamus loved it when she kissed him, and now nobody really stared at them any more. People got used to it. After all, he and Callista were practically adults, and there were a lot more people that displayed much deeper affection in public. Look and Lavender and Ron.

"Match tomorrow," said Dean, trying to make conversation - and probably wanting to stop Seamus kissing Callista much more. "Should be a good one. Do you know who got the Beater job in the end?"

"That Italian girl," said Callista, confirming Seamus's suspicions. "Isabelle...Thing."

Seamus stopped himself saying, "Isabella Giordano," just in time. He didn't want Callista to suspect that he liked Isabella. He hated her.

He glanced at the clock. Thinking of Isabella always made him feel really uneasy. He didn't know why, but it did. The clock read 10:30. He wasn't feeling very tired though, that was the problem. It didn't help that Avalon - who was already accepted by everyone as a vital part of the Gryffindor population, despite being new - was playing a loud game of Exploding Snap with Collin Creevey on the floor not far from his feet.

"You ok?" said the dark-haired girl, looking up at him, her eyes narrowed. "Your auror is very dark."

Seamus winced. When he had accepted Avalon as a kind of friend he hadn't realised that she was into all the hippy-dippy auror Seer stuff. But he hadn't realised that she was actually quite a gifted Seer, and he also hadn't realised that she would have a vision concerning him and Callista and she wouldn't tell him what it involved.

"Will you tell me?" he asked, suddenly.

"What?"

"Tell me what happened in your vision."

"No," said Avalon, flatly. "It's not good to know the future."

"You do."

"That's something I have no control over. You don't get a choice of being a Seer. I just put up with it. You do have an option however, and I'm choosing not to tell you."

Seamus suddenly realised Callista was having no part in this conversation, and noticed that this was because she had dozed off on a cushion. Hmm. Nice to know she found his company stimulating.

God I'm bored, he thought moodily. I need to go somewhere!

"I'm going for a walk," he said, getting up and stretching.

"Where?"

"Anywhere. To the lake."

"It's getting dark, you'll get lynched by McGonagall," said the Voice of Reason (i.e. Avalon).

"I'll be back soon, I just need to get out," said Seamus restlessly, and he climbed out of the portrait hole.

Avalon looked after him, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"He's planning something," she said.

"How d'you know?" asked Collin, putting down another card. It didn't explode, which was a plus.

"I do," said Avalon, grimly. "I can tell these things."

"You can?"

"I can."

---

Isabella stretched like a cat in her chair. Geez she was tired. Montague had made her do a lot of training that day, and it seemed that all the bones were aching. But she did enjoy being a Beater, even if it was a little unorthodox.

The library was getting slightly dark now. She supposed she'd better get back to the common room soon, but she didn't feel like it somehow. There was something oddly dangerous and delicious about the night, and Isabella had always felt it. At heart Isabella was a good girl, but she had a rebellious streak in her. The rebellious streak was what made her decide not to go back to the dungeons after Madam Pince closed the library and told her to, "Bugger off back to bed."

She looked down the corridor and wandered where she could go. The Quiditch pitch wasn't an option. Someone was bound to see her, and even if they didn't her body was aching like hell. She didn't feel up to it, really. Filch would undoubtedly catch her if she went up to the Owlery to visit Aria.

"Hey, watch it!"

Someone whacked into her from behind. She toppled over forwards and smacked her knee on the doorframe of the library.

"Owwww! Voi idiot di stupido, voi quasi...oh."

Seamus Finnigan was looking down at her, sitting on the floor massaging her ankle.

"What are you doing out of your dungeons?" asked Seamus, looking suspicious.

"Sitting on the floor checking to see if my foot isn't broken," said Isabella. Surprisingly enough she wasn't scowling. "What does it look like, stupido? Why are you out of your tower?"

Seamus scowled.

"None of your business."

Isabella rolled her eyes. She tried to stand up, but her ankle gave way almost instantly.

"Ow! Jesus..."

Just as she was thinking about hopping down to the Hospital Wing she felt two hands on hers.

"What're you...?"

But before she could finish her query, Seamus had pulled her to her feet and was supporting her left side.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, a slight smile on her face.

"Repaying you for the Potions incident," said Seamus, who couldn't help but smile back. "After this, we're equal. I can't stand being in debt to an enemy."

Isabella nodded.

"Deal," she said.

Seamus helped Isabella hobble down to the Hospital Wing. They had a slight problem on the stairs but they managed in the end.

"Hello?" said Madam Pomfrey as they arrived.

"I'm Isabella," said Isabella. "I've done something to my ankle."

Madam Pomfrey looked at it, and said, "It's a sprain. I can imagine that would cause some discomfort for you." She tapped it with her wand, and Isabella felt the pain leave her in an instant. "Ok, that should do you; these sorts of things don't need antibiotics. Off you go to your tower. Oh, how did you do it, by the way?"

"I...tripped," said Isabella.

She had been on the verge of telling Madam Pomfrey that Seamus bumped into her, but that would have been mean. Slytherin or not, Isabella Giordano was not mean.

She left the Hospital Wing and found herself face to face with Seamus again.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I'm going."

"Where?"

He turned to face her. Isabella looked at him.

"The lake if you must know."

"At this time? You'll bump into a tree."

"Good to know you've got faith in my sight. For all you know I could have night-vision."

"For all I know you could really be a six foot four German transsexual masquerading as an Irish pupil of wizardry to secretly wipe out the entire student population. The only words we've ever exchanged are hostile."

"Touché."

"I like the sound of the lake. Mind if I come?"

Seamus looked incredibly taken aback, but said, "Err...ok." Was it Isabella's imagination but did he sound slightly sheepish?

They walked together in silence until they reached a door that Isabella knew was a sort of back door. It led out into the grounds near the lake. They slipped through it and wandered towards the black mass of water.

It was a clear night. The stars were out, and Isabella smiled to herself. He was ok really, Seamus Finnigan.

"So..." she said, trying to think of a topic of conversation.

"So what?"

She was tempted to push him into the lake for having nought per cent people skills, but resisted.

"So, you in the Gryffindor Quiditch team?" she asked, trying to be friendly.

"No," said Seamus, and judging by his voice he was a bit bitter about it. Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Isabella was getting very aggravated now. Why did he have to be so monosyllabic? And boring. She was regretting this now. She shouldn't even have attempted to be even remotely pleasant to Finnigan. This boy just isn't prepared to make an effort, she thought crossly. Why did I risk getting a detention to go on a stroll round the lake with someone who isn't going to even try and talk to me?

"Are you going to say anything, then?" she said, slightly irritably.

"I just did."

"I mean something with more than two letters."

Seamus looked at her with the old expression of intense dislike.

"Why are you even here?" he asked, nastily.

"That is a very good question," Isabella snapped. "Maybe I thought it was an ideal opportunity to settle the score and actually make an effort but nooooooooo. You're just another useless bigot."

She realised at once she'd been harsh, and was about to apologise, when Seamus retorted:

"You're a disgusting Slytherin! You only care about you, you, you! You deserve Malfoy; you're exactly like each other!"

"What is the problem with Draco?" demanded Isabella, her eyes burning with fire.

"He's a stuck up twat like you!" said Seamus, who looked livid. "I don't know what you see in him, he's a total arsehole!"

"What about Callista then?" said Isabella, fighting fire with fire. "If you had any idea what goes on with her...well, let's just say you wouldn't like it. She's such a little hypocrite."

"You're just jealous of Callie!"

"And why should I be jealous of 'Callie'?"

"Because she's prettier than you!"

"There are more important things than looks you shallow bastard! Can't you see beyond somebody's face?"

"I can and I can see right through yours to that bitchy poisonous brain you keep inside it! You're just like every other Slytherin, you're just a slut! OWW!"

Isabella had slapped Seamus right around the face with as much strength as she could muster. This turned out to be a lot, as Seamus staggered backwards clutching his face.

"What the hell was that for you..."

But Isabella just shouted a flurry of Italian words at him - and they did not mean, "Wow you're so nice!" either - and stormed off to the castle. It was only when she had got pretty far away from the Irish boy that she noticed there were tears in her eyes. She put it down to anger. After all, nothing Finnigan could say would make her cry, nothing.

Stupid bastard, the angry part of her brain said as she walked along. Who does he think he is? Why did you go along in the first place?

But he did help you when you sprained your ankle, said the other half.

He was the person that sprained it, retorted the angry half. And he only helped you to settle the score. He wanted to hate you so he helped you because you covered up for him in the dungeons. He didn't want to be in debt, that's all. Now shut up.

The reasonable side did as it was told and Isabella slipped inside. She managed to creep into the common room without being spotted by a teacher, and sat fuming in her armchair for a long time, not talking to anyone, not even Draco or Carey.

Finally, Tracy Davis, who Isabella had become quite friendly with, came up to her with a business-like expression on her face.

"For God's sake, Izzie, you're sitting around looking a miserable as a Ravenclaw who's had his book taken away from him," she said.

"Nice imagery," said Isabella bitterly.

"Cheers. Anyway, come and have a game of Exploding Snap."

"Thanks but no thanks."

"Then tell me what the hell's the matter with you!" Tracy said irritably. "You just went off to do some studying and you were gone ages and then came back in a foul mood!"

"I'm not telling you. It's not important."

"Well if you won't tell me you can come and play Snap," said Tracy, and Isabella knew it wasn't worth arguing. "Come on, Sadi's winning. I know you want to beat her."

It was true, Isabella was competitive.

"Oh fine," she said, getting up and walking over to her friends.

As she tried as hard as possible to thrash Sadi and all the others, she kept trying to banish the blues.

Bugger Finnigan, she thought, putting down a pink two. Bollocks to the bastard. Spineless, brainless and feckless. You're better off without him.

Better off without him? She shook herself mentally. What was she thinking? She didn't have ownership on him. She didn't even like him. He was stuck-up and dogmatic. He was irritating. He thought he was so great just because he was going out with Callista Diotrephes.

And she's dirty slut, too, thought Isabella bitterly throwing down a blue seven. Dances around thinking she's so great. Shallow as a puddle. She's a complete tramp.

Why did she even care? She hadn't even known Callista for that long! She wasn't jealous. Why would she be jealous of someone with nought per cent intellectual activity (unless you counted trying to work out how not to get caught cheating). She probably had more teeth that brain cells.

So why do you want to kill her every time you see her?

Isabella cursed under her breath. Her friends took it as a sign of annoyance that the card pile had been claimed by Carey. She laughed along with them as Tracy made a joke she hadn't been listening too, forcing the merriment. It was hard but she managed.

Grrrr! Isabella thought as she irritably threw down cards. Why am I so damn unhappy about bloody Finnigan and bloody Diotrephes? I'm not jealous of her and I don't like him, so why am I so fed up?

I do not like him, right?

Isabella frowned as she thought.

Of course I don't, she reasoned. He's a total prick. He's full of himself. He's prejudiced. He's shallow. He's really dim. He's openly hostile for no reason. He's got little to no people skills. He's really annoying. He's...

She tried to think of an appropriate word to sum up Finnigan.

He's a Gryffindor, she thought, sullenly. That's what he is. He's a stinking Gryffindor and they are all the same with Slytherins. All of them.

"I'm going to bed," she said, standing up and stretching. "I'm tired. Thanks, Trace, you cheered me up."

And - trying to play along with this blatant lie - she went through the door to her empty dormitory.

---

Stupid bitch, thought Seamus crossly as he lay on his bed, trying to sleep. Why did she have to tag along? Why? She herself said she hated me, so why is she being all pally all of a sudden?

He rolled over and punched his pillow. Everyone else in the dormitory was asleep. Seamus could hear Neville snoring as usual. Well at least he's happy, thought Seamus irritably, glaring up at the curtains that hung around his bed. He doesn't have some bitchy Slytherin girl on his back all the time. I hate that stupid Giordano! How can she accuse me of not making an effort?

He scowled to himself, and attempted, once again, to drift off to sleep.

---

What the hell is going on with me? Isabella thought desperately as she lay in bed. She had no intention of going to sleep. Why did I want to go anywhere with Finnigan in the first place?

Because you...

No. The thought was absurd. Isabella banished it from her head. She couldn't. No way. She hated him, for all the reasons she'd been telling herself earlier.

Oh dammit. She had to face it some time. Pretending it was true didn't make it false. Isabella stared at the ceiling, wishing for all her worth that she didn't like Seamus Finnigan.

It's just physical, she told herself. You just think he's quite good-looking, that's all. You only like him. It's not like you're in love with him or anything. You just have a bit of a crush on him, that's all.

She sat up. Everyone was asleep. She kneaded her forehead with her fists.

She stared across the dormitory at Carey. Her golden hair was all over her pillow and her porcelain features untroubled. Why did Carey have to be so unfairly gorgeous? And how could she just go from rich boy to rich boy without ever getting feelings for anyone?

She cursed to herself.

You've got Draco, she told herself sternly. He's a great guy who's really good-looking and really likes you. Ok, he's a bit prejudiced against Muggle-Borns, but it's probably just racist horseplay.

Seamus hates you. He prefers beautiful snakes like that stupid Diotrephes to you. He said so. He called you a slut. He said you were jealous.

He's a Gryffindor, thought Isabella, trying to banish the feelings that were creeping over her. Even if he didn't hate Slytherins, he's still a Gryffindor. And that's why I can't like him.

She turned over and put her face in her pillow. Every time she breathed in she could smell the musty material.

God dammit, she thought, kicking herself for the night's events. I wish I'd gone walking by myself.