Chucked

CHAPTER EIGHT

Chucked

The last week of term was pretty riotous. Robert built a tower of exploding snap cards on an empty chair during Transfiguration. McGonagall caught him and transfigured the cards into a china jug before taking twenty points from Ravenclaw.

We spent the Muggle Studies class bewitching a velly tision set so that it only brasscorded a reflection of the scene in the classroom in front of it, and we didn't listen when we were told that Muggles called this a "sozed klirkit V.T."

At lunchtime I saw Zabini approaching the Beauxbatons carriage. It wouldn't be too hard to attract one of the visitors, I thought. They had a duty to accept friendly overtures from Hogwarts students.

We didn't even open our books during Arithmancy. I played Hangman with Anthony while Padma played Battleship with Susan Bones.

Ancient Runes was cancelled for the rest of the term because, as the notice on the classroom door said, we had already reached the end of Chapter XIV.

Padma was still acting rather huffily towards me – unfairly, I thought, since there was obviously something she wasn't telling me, and Parvati was now all smiles again. I couldn't tell whether Parvati really had cheered up or whether it was an act to make herself look and feel happier, but she and her friend Lavender Brown were finding plenty to giggle over.

Before dinner I noticed Zabini chatting up a Durmstrang girl in the corridor – the same one with whom he had been watching our Quidditch practice on Sunday. He was evidently taking the Older Women Only business seriously. As we entered the common room, Terry commented, "That Durmstrang girl looked as if she enjoyed Zabini's attention. I wonder what flattery he uses to pick them up?"

"Pick-up?" Padma had overheard us. "What's the difference, then, between a pick-up and a simple invitation?"

"The intention," I said. "A pick-up is when the boy is only using you for some obscure game of his own – when the compliments are hollow flattery – when he intends to retract the invitation as soon as he has secured an acceptance – "

"Which novel have you been reading?" she asked. "Talk about real people, in plain English, for a change!"

"Oh, do stop flying off the handle!" I exclaimed. "What's wrong with you lately? Everything I say makes you angry. What's really bothering you?"

"Nothing! Unless – since we're talking about pick-ups and invitations – when are you going to invite me to the Yule Ball?"

"I thought I already had."

"Rubbish, you've never mentioned it."

I realised I hadn't asked her directly, but I did think it was an unfair splitting of hairs. "Well, we've both talked about the ball on the assumption we're going together. There didn't seem to be any point in asking you once we both understood that."

"That isn't the same thing as being invited." She spoke softly, and for a wild moment I thought that perhaps this was the whole reason behind our squabbles. Perhaps that one little detail was a big detail to girls. Perhaps that was why she felt she had to trifle with Zabini – in case there really was a danger that I wouldn't be inviting her.

"Fine. Padma. Will you come to the Yule Ball with me?"

To my amazement, she flared up. "After I've had to drag the invitation out of you? It's obvious to me that you don't really want to go with me at all! Thank you, but I'd rather go alone than with someone who only invites me to save face. Let's not go together!"

My mouth dropped open. Then I realised that half the common room was watching us, so I closed it again. Padma sprang out of her chair and flounced off to the other end of the chamber. Yes, we'd been squabbling lately, but whatever made her think I didn't want to take her to the ball?

It was a couple of hours later that I looked up from the book I had been pretending to read and saw that Morag had timidly seated herself beside me.

"You have to be very distressed about what happened earlier," she ventured.

"Understatement," I growled. "Don't girls ever say what they mean?"

"I'm imagining you're confused as well as angry."

"I'm furious. But I've worked out lately that no-one wins an argument with Padma because she never says what she means."

"It's seeming very unfair to you."

"Well, you explain it, Morag – what's wrong with Padma? Whatever is she playing at?"

"I'm thinking the problem is that it cannot be explained," said Morag carefully. "Not logically, anyway. Padma was not knowing what she wanted. And when she's confused about what she's wanting, she behaves ... unpredictably."

I considered, beginning to calm down. "If you're putting it that way, Padma has never been exactly predictable. But I've never known her to be unfair or unkind."

"I'm not supposing she was setting out to hurt or humiliate you. It was just an impulsive outburst."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, I'm not expecting anything would do that except an apology from Padma."

Morag was Padma's best friend, but she wasn't taking sides, and I could see that she was trying to help. I took a milder tone when I remarked, "So you agree that she should apologise?"

"I'm agreeing that she behaved badly."

I reflected a moment. "If you're saying the little scene wasn't premeditated, I'm glad of that," I said. "But you can't say it doesn't mean anything. When people are angry, they certainly mean something."

"Oh, it certainly meant something," Morag agreed.

She did not elaborate. I was completely calm now, and I asked her: "Do you have a take on that? Why would she demand that I invite her to the ball and then refuse the invitation in front of everyone?"

"You have to understand that her original intention was to accept. She told me that she did not realise until the moment you asked her that she really was not wanting to go with you after all."

"But she accused me of being the one who didn't want to go with her."

"That's what she said. But what she was meaning was that she was not wanting to go with you. Yes, I'm knowing that's not logical. But Padma's never logical when she's upset. She just blurted out something angry, and you should not take too much notice of the exact words she used."

I began to grasp the point. I mustn't try to make sense of the quarrel because it hadn't been sensible. "You mean, the only really important thing she said was that we won't be going to the ball together?"

"Michael, I'm knowing this has to be painful for you, but that's pretty well it."

Morag's eyes were incongruously large and moist. Something didn't fit. Morag was in agonies for me. As if I were dying a thousand deaths. But it wasn't that serious. I wasn't as upset as she assumed.

In fact, I wasn't as upset as I had assumed.

"It's all right, Morag," I quickly broke the silence. "I'll live. But why doesn't Padma want to go to the ball with me? If she wanted to break up with me, why didn't she tell me days ago and quietly?"

"Because Padma was not knowing what she was wanting." Morag was speaking quite placidly, not at all annoyed at having to repeat herself. "She admitted it to me. She's still liking you as a friend. You've not behaved badly. And it's seeming to me that she's liking to think of herself as a girl who has a boyfriend. So she had no good reason to chuck you, and it took her a long time to realise that she was even wanting to break up. I'm sorry, Michael, but that's the way it is."

"Well, I'd worked that much out. She's bored with me, isn't she? Has been since – since – "

Morag lowered her eyes and said, "I've been noticing it since Hallowe'en."

"You didn't say anything – to me or to her, did you?"

"It was not my business."

"All right, all right." My thoughts needed a great deal of adjustment. "The truth is, I'd rather break up with Padma than stay together with this constant bickering. And I understand that she only behaved badly because she was upset herself. But I still don't like the way she did it."

When I was finally left alone with my thoughts, however, they were neither angry nor particularly sad ones. To my own surprise, the idea that persisted in my head was: There are plenty more fish in the sea!