January 8, 1889 - Hogwarts Corridors

Sweetie had something on her mind, and she was dying to say it. The negativity towards her, she was quite used to. But to look down on her sisters? And Darling of all people? Despicable. And the Slytherin would have none of it. She had not caught a glimpse of the bratty little Hufflepuff who was responsible for her anger yesterday, but seeing her today in the corridors made her blood boil. Marching over, there was no way that this brat was going to be interrupting her before she had said what she was going to say. She had something on her mind, and Jemima Farley was going to hear all about it.

"You vile wench. You think you know anything about my life? Mine and my family's struggles and disagreements?! And to then send them out to the whole school? What is wrong with you? What is worse, you then take my personality, and instantly assume that Darling, one of the sweetest people in school, to be as bad as I have been? Unworthy of our wealth? And the very nerve of you, to try on her dress. If anyone is unworthy of what they have in life, it is you!" She finished her statement with a slight huff. There was a deep urge to slap the girl, but she held it back... for now that is. Would she be able to hold it back forever? That she was uncertain of.

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

One would have thought Sweetie Whitledge would have been used to people murmuring behind her back. She had been notorious at Hogwarts, at one point. Nothing Jemima could have said about her could be news to her -

But it was Jemima's turn to be notorious now, a parasite, a social pariah, and she supposed, if she had considered it for a moment before Miss Whitledge came marching up to her, she would never have expected Sweetie to be nice.

Instead, she launched into a tirade that Jemima stared through, wide-eyed and frozen in place. She could not ignore it, much as she would like - that would only anger the girl further. If she ran, she didn't doubt the Slytherin would find her, and perhaps hoist her up by her ankles and leave her to rot in a dungeon somewhere. She didn't, even, disagree with all the sixth year was saying. She had been too harsh on Darling.

But vile wench seemed rather too harsh for words, especially when Jemima had not meant for any of her thoughts to be sent round, and Jemima blinked back the welling tears with continued disbelief that this was really happening, that she was being chastised by Sweetie Whitledge, of all people.

"You're quite right," Jemima heard herself say, unusually haughty and unusually loud, "how could I have imagined Darling could ever be as horrid as you!" Poor Darling didn't deserve such a pig of a sister.

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The key word in Jemima's thought process was had been. Both this school year and last, Sweetie had been quiet. Hiding behind a book most of the time. The only thing that would stand out was her argument with her terrible brother last year. And her troublesome cat... but Bijoux did not leave the common room often. So unless Miss Farley had any Slytherins to chat with, it was unlikely that the Hufflepuff had heard of the cat.

"I don't care what you think of me. You could call me a cow for all I care. It's only words. But as for Darling, you don't deserve to be in the same country as her. I may not deserve her in my life, but neither do you. And I have never sent such vile words floating around the school." Which was true. Even in her more... troublesome days, she wasn't much of a gossip. But she was more testy, and snappy, and cruelly opinionative. And that was to people that mainly approached her, or vexed her in some other way that made her feel the need to approach them.

What was happening now was only for the sake of her kind Hufflepuff sister... that she herself had treated far too poorly over the years. But at least it hadn't been recent. And at least Sweetie was trying to change for her sister. Unlike Miss Farley, who had written such terrible words quite recently as indicated by the journal. Who also had sent them out just yesterday. If the words had only been about her, she could have cared less. "I hope your expelled. Or at least receive detention for such terrible actions. I'm sure my sister isn't the only innocent who has been hurt by you and you dreadful words."

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

Don't cry, Jemima. Don't let this hag of a girl shouting you down make you cry, like a stupid child.

It was only words, Miss Whitledge said - and yes, indeed, it had only been words, thoughtless, careless words!! written by Jemima in piques of feeling, nothing more! - but apparently "only" hadn't diminished the offence taken by the Slytherin.

"I hope you don't think I ever meant for my words to be read by the likes of you," Jemima bit out, angry at the prospect of being branded the guilty one, when she was just as much a victim of this - if not more, the most badly hurt! If she couldn't glean otherwise from Miss Whitledge's present rant, Jemima wouldn't have put it past the girl to have been behind it all. She suspected Sweetie Whitledge had been waiting for a moment like this all her life.

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Sweetie would certainly be lying if she said that she didn't want this awful little child to cry at least a bit for the misery that she had placed on others. Though the Whitledge had not spoken to her blonde sister, she did suspect that Darling and this brat were at least slightly close given the close ages and same house. To invade someone's trust like that? Even most Slytherin's wouldn't do such a thing!

"It doesn't matter. The moment they left your wicked mind, they were at risk of being seen by others. The least you could have done was cast a concealing charm so others could be spared your vile words." She wasn't even gonna mention the foul words written of Chrysanta's sister. A girl who had certainly earned no negativity on her from what Sweetie could tell. Honestly, Sweetie wasn't sure she knew anyone with more self control. Perhaps a professor.

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

Jemima did not appreciate being lectured to at the best of times - she had always been well-behaved, so lectures were few and far-between or otherwise entirely undeserved, in her opinion - but she certainly didn't appreciate being lectured to by a girl scarcely older than her. Jemima knew what she had done wrong, but, quite frankly, she had already suffered more than enough!

Her wicked mind, the girl was saying now! Jemima spluttered in utter disbelief. She had said some insensitive things, perhaps, but they had not been evil; some things might even have been called for. "A Concealing Charm?!" Jemima said hotly, her voice pitching upwards, both louder and higher, in her indignation. "It was my private diary! You might all have been spared my 'vile words' if anyone had had a shred of decency! Perhaps when you read the words 'Dear Diary' you should have STOPPED READING!"

It occurred to Jemima, a little late, that possibly the last thing she ought to be doing was making another scene. Nevertheless.

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   Ophelia Devine

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It didn't matter how upset that Miss Farley was. All Sweetie wanted at this point was to get her very valid point across. That wouldn't happen if she let her thoughts become buried forever. Buried like she had been doing. With her friend troubles, with her family drama. But she wouldn't bring that up now. "Well you should act on your own words. Perhaps when you see someone else's dress you should not wear it." She muttered sarcastically. Would the shouting child even had heard her? Possibly not.

"Stay away from my sister. She deserves better friends, just like she deserves a better family." She stated bluntly. At this point, she was slightly more calm. Even with the screaming girl before her. "I'm glad that my friend mentioned my sister being mentioned in papers all over the school. No matter the strained relationship between my family and I, I will not hesitate to protect them when I can." With that, she planned on walking away. Why bother dealing with even more whining. She had said what she had felt would be in need of saying. Hopefully the pathetic Hufflepuff would not try to stop her, and would keep her mouth shut.

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

Jemima tilted her chin up, defiantly trying to hold onto her scrap of the high ground when Miss Whitledge mentioned the dress-borrowing incident.

She wanted this encounter to be over possibly more than Miss Whitledge did, but Jemima also found herself blinking in rapid disbelief at the thought the Slytherin might leave with the last words resounding down the corridor for every last teacher and student to hear. Perhaps what she ought to have done now was to say sorry. Beg forgiveness. Promise to make amends.

But all her self-control had been torn to shreds since yesterday, every nerve-ending in her body a live wire, every thought rushing off the tip of her tongue before she could stop them. (What did it matter anymore, trying to spare people's feelings? She had already ruined that.) So instead she pushed up into Sweetie Whitledge's face with as much disdain she could muster. "Next time maybe you should ask your sister if she even wants your help before you go and embarrass your family even further," she shot back. "Because you're doing an excellent job of it right now."

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Was... was this wench still proud of borrowing Darling's dress? Practically taking it? It sure seemed like it with the tilt chin and pride shining in the Hufflepuff's eyes. How disgusting. How did Darling ever like this girl? Though it was true that Darling was a very forgiving soul.

At this point, Sweetie didn't expect more to come of this argument. She didn't expect for the Hufflepuff to be so disloyal to Darling to try and argue the fact that she had earned Sweetie's words. Wasn't loyalty the famed Hufflepuff trait? Though it did look like this Hufflepuff wasn't all too loyal with her friends in the first place.

Something Miss Whitledge had not expected was for the bratty little Hufflepuff to actually get in her face. That was crossing a line, in a way. Not as bad as betraying a friend. But still. A cold glare chilled Sweetie's face as she stared back with ice in her soul. No, she would not let this little wench bring her down.

Despite her pride, something clicked in her head as Miss Idiot rambled on. 'You should ask if she wants your help.' Hadn't that been the exact point of Handsome? The rest of the words faded away. Perhaps she really hadn't learned her lesson. But why should she? She was only trying to help. And now she couldn't live with her siblings because she was only trying to help. Perhaps Handsome was right with something. She hadn't changed. Not the way he wants. But she also realized that she didn't want to change the way he wanted her to.

Looking up, she realized that the Hufflepuff was still there. "You speak too much." She muttered. Thinking more of it, she slowly shook her head. "I'm never going to ignore if my sister needs me. I'm never going to ignore someone I love if they need me, even if their pride gets in the way of asking for help. Even if my pride gets in the way of me speaking to them. I might not be a Hufflepuff, but I am more loyal then you'll ever be."

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

It had almost been easier, when Sweetie Whitledge had been being downright rude, to respond in kind. It had almost felt good, to shout, to yell and stamp her feet, to let it out; just as it always had, venting to her diary.

But venting out in the open was, as she had already learnt, not a sustainable model for living, lest she want to be that pariah, eternally. (Not that she knew what other options she had, at this point.)

Nor did Jemima want to be a lesson for everyone else, for the likes of bratty Slytherin girls to draw some parable of her, like she was some wastrel, some fallen woman, some useless drudge lying in the gutter! And yet, now that Sweetie Whitledge was almost ignoring her and instead almost just talking to herself, some kind of high-minded, long-winded moral philosophy - Jemima felt worse than ever. The anger in her shrivelled instantly. Sweetie Whitledge, more loyal than she would ever be.

The thought was so horrendous, so hideous, so awfully true, that Jemima felt her insides crumpling and her eyes fill with tears, wishing for nothing more than to be swallowed by the floor. "If you're... quite finished," Jemima mumbled, her face ashen, I'm going to go cry for the next full hour in my room. Even Sweetie Whitledge felt superior to her now, then!

So the least the girl could do, surely, was move out of her way.

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Sweetie couldn't read minds, but if she could she would have a very snippy response to Miss Farley's hopes of the Slytherin moving out of her way. Hadn't the Hufflepuff been the one to get in Sweetie's face when she was just about to leave. But Sweetie couldn't comment on what she didn't know about.

Was she quite finished? In all honesty, she was fairly finished before the Hufflepuff had been in her face. But Sweetie decided to take a bit of the high road and stepped aside without a word.

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Magic by Lady!

Wanna be there for Sweetie during her post-election slump?

Thank you, Jemima nearly said, but bit her tongue before the instinct could escape: politeness would stick out like a sore thumb, now. Perhaps that would only make her seem worse in comparison, ignoring all kinds of etiquette now, perhaps it would only prove what the diary seemed to suggest about her - but Jemima could not in good conscience thank a person who had begun this encounter by addressing her as a vile wench.

Dear Merlin, those venomous words were swimming in her head again, and she felt a little dizzy from it. She stalked past Miss Whitledge without another word either, then, picking up haste as she went, lest the girl decided she wanted to go for another round of verbal battering before Jemima had even recovered from this one.

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