About Time Finished

Backdated September 1st

Rhea's muggle father stood awkwardly at the station, hands in the pockets of his creased pants, glasses nearly slipping off his nose. He looked so uncomfortable. Rhea felt a spark of pity for him, which made her instantly want to get into the train.

Trains. Bad for the environment. Perhaps among the least efficient vehicles she could think of. Weren't these people literally magical? Couldn't they transport their students in a way that wouldn't pollute the earth?

Rhea approached her father awkwardly. "Well," she said, trying to imply that she was going to continue, but then staying silent. Hopefully he would talk instead.

"This is it," he said finally. His voice seemed to stick in his throat.

"Yes," Rhea agreed stiffly. "Okay, bye. I... I love you."

She had not said that to him in some time, and it felt wrong coming from her lips. He was her father, though. She thought it best to pretend that it was a completely typical interaction.

"Er, yeah. You too, darling." He gave her a halfhearted smile.

Okay. This was a miserable conversation. Rhea nodded quickly, forcing a grin, and dashed off toward the train. Smoke continued to fill the air, making her cough for a moment, but despite herself she managed to suppress it. Her lungs felt raw. She took an even inhale, her breath catching slightly, then quickened her pace, entering through the doors of the train car and bursting into an empty compartment.

Oh, wait. Not empty. A girl in a green blouse and black boots sat there, gazing out the window.

Rhea froze momentarily in the doorway, readjusting her expectations for this ride. Of course, it had been ridiculous to hope for some space. Instead she would probably get a few snippets of forced chatter between herself and this stranger.

She walked slowly over to a seat across from the girl and sat down, not taking her eyes off her new companion. So, what was this girl like? It was difficult to get a clear view of her face from the angle between them. That was frustrating. Rhea forced herself to speak.

"Hello," she said. "Erm, I'm Rhea Miller." Okay, that was a basic introduction. What now? Maybe some information about herself. "I'm new to magic, you see," she explained. "I was raised by a... muggle." She tasted the new word, trying to get used to how it sounded. "My father, to be precise. Er, what's your name? I mean, tell me about yourself. Including your name. It looks like we're stuck with each other for a while."

So, whatever this girl- Jennifer- felt toward her, it was negative. Spiteful, even. Not even five minutes and she already had an enemy. The way then Jennifer glared at her with such venom and disdain, when Rhea hadn't done or said anything that could have possibly been taken as upsetting, was honestly quite intriguing.

The only part that irritated Rhea was the air that Jennifer looked down her nose at her. Like Rhea was somehow inherently worse, between the two of them. Lower class, if you will. Okay, maybe Rhea was small, and ugly, and scrawny... but she would be willing to bet all her earthly savings that she was at least ten times cleverer than her green-adorned companion. If Hogwarts had some sort of competition testing their students math skills, Rhea would destroy Jennifer. Then she'd learn some respect.

Green-adorned. Jennifer's expression when Rhea had revealed her non-magical upbringing. Suddenly it all made sense.

Jennifer King was from one of those families that had a grudge against muggle-borns. She was among those who gave the Slytherin house a bad reputation. The exact moment this thought arose in Rhea's head, Jennifer spoke again, confirming Rhea's suspicion. The way she said it- you may be new to this- made Rhea's blood boil. (Not literally. That's not how blood works.)

Okay. So this was happening. Well, people like this could prove quite amusing, if you made them angry enough. Rhea smirked. If she played her cards right, the train ride ahead of her could end up being fun.

When Jennifer offered to buy Rhea something from the trolley, the half-blood took a moment to consider her options. Well, refusing could annoy Jennifer further, since it wouldn't be polite. But the possibility of ordering everything in Rhea's line of sight, with the pressure of using her manners prohibiting Jennifer from refusing, was just too appealing. Rhea suppressed a giggle. A giggle. Who was she? A toddler? Oh well. It was worth it.

"Why thank you!" she said. "I am so hungry. My MUGGLE father is POOR, so I haven't always gotten the proper amount of food." A lie. Well, it was true that her father was struggling financially, but she had always been fed adequately, at least. Actually, this was probably not something she should be flaunting. Too late to stop now. "Oh I'm sorry, did you not catch that? I must have been speaking too softly. My MUGGLE FATHER IS POOR. Okay, anyway, I'd like that, and that and oh, yes, one of those. Oh, I've never had a-" Rhea, in the process of pointing to everything, did not even bother to read the label of the particular treat she had her eye on. "whatever that is. Oooh, and all of those? Well, actually- no, all of those. Oh dear, I do hope I'm not asking for too much. I'd hate to be a bother. Oh wait, I didn't even see those. The packaging is so lovely. I'll take fifteen, if you please."

She was enjoying this way too much.

Rhea tilted her head. So, Jennifer was playing the part of the mean girl. An overdone movie trope, really, but undeniably true in this case. A comment about Rhea's weight, and Rhea's intelligence surrounding the magical community, as well as something about Rhea being lower than her. Very well. The half-blood theoretically cracked her knuckles, readying herself for this foolish (but potentially enjoyable) little game.

"Talk about fat," she snarked. "I'd say it's a risk for you to even buy those little candies! Poor dear."

Was that something a "mean girl" would say? Rhea winced. Maybe, but it was still a stupid insult. She would never have dreamed saying something like that to anyone other then this cruel pureblood. Well, the only thing she could do now was commence the charade.

"And don't be an idiot," she continued. "Actually, I see it's far too late for that. Are you referencing Cinderella? Actual Cinderella? For someone who talks so highly about their knowledge of magic, you apparently know a lot about muggle things. Also, a fairy does the magic spell in the story, not a witch. Do you not know the difference, Jenny?"

Again, she cringed. Maybe that was a good insult among purebloods? It certainly wouldn't be among anyone else.

"And for your information, I'm hoping for-" that made Rhea pause. The tone of the argument had clearly shifted. Earlier, she would've said Gryffindor, to prove that she was proud to be completely, utterly different from Jennifer. Now, they were competing.

Truthfully, Rhea wanted to be sorted into Ravenclaw. She was smart, they were smart- a perfect match, clearly. But Jennifer didn't need to know that.

"I'm hoping for Slytherin," she finished, feigning sweetness. "It's a wonderful house, you see. I heard it's grown much more accepting of muggle-borns and half-bloods. And, you know, with my ambition, and my cleverness, I'll surely get in. Which house would you like, Jenny? I think you're a great fit for Hufflepuff."

Rhea was pretty sure pompous purebloods hated Hufflepuff, although she wasn't positive. Well, hopefully.

The slap stung. Rhea wrenched herself away from Jennifer, shocked. "Hey!" she yelped involuntarily.

Jennifer's closeness seemed to make the atmosphere change. The air became stuffy, barely breathable. Rhea tried to inhale steadily. In, out. In, out. Inoutinoutinoutinout.

"Back up," she instructed. "Please."

The world began to spin. Rhea felt her chest move up and down rapidly. Too rapidly. She was hyperventilating. The walls of the train compartment seemed to close in on her, boxing her in, crushing her body.

"I need some air," Rhea managed harshly. The edges of her vision began to darken. Of course, she had to show weakness at the exact moment it was most inconvenient for her.

What was even happening? An asthma attack? An anxiety attack? Everything was all wrong.

Rhea stood up, shouldering Jennifer roughly to get to the compartment door. Her fingers trembled as she tried desperately to open it. Her efforts were futile. She fumbled again and again.

"YOU WILL NEVER MAKE ANY FRIENDS!" Rhea yelled, turning to face Jennifer and pressing her back against the doors. "You will act all offended when people don't want to spend time with someone that insults them for their bloodline and their upbringing. But no one will like you. You will push everyone away with your mindset that you... you're better than everyone else, naturally. You're mean. Everyone hates you. You're going to spend the rest of your life alone, with no one there for you, and that will be because of YOU, Jenny. So deal with it."

Rhea's whole body felt weak and shaky. There were too many sensations. The compartment was too small. There was no air for her to inhale. She turned around again, doing her absolute best to open the doors.

No, no, you're fine, she told herself. At that very moment, the girl finally managed to pry it open. The air outside of the compartent wasn't exactly fresh, but it felt like such a relief in her lungs. She was okay. She was fine.

Slowly, Rhea turned back around to face Jennifer.

Rhea, who had just regained control of her respiring, caught her breath. Oh no. Her outburst- those mean thoughts she had experienced and expressed to Jennifer in her panicked state- were not at all something she would ever say. She got too got up in this fascinating game, this snarky back-and forth. Now the poor pureblood looked almost like she was trying not to cry.

That was why Jennifer had such a personal grudge against muggles. Her grandfather had not survived in their care. Her parents must have been so hateful towards people with even a drop on non-magical blood in their veins. Rhea could not say how they had treated Jennifer, but it probably wasn't the best, as far as parenting went.

"Oh," Rhea stated. "You're lonely."

It was a very insensitive way of putting it. Maybe she should soften the blow. "I'm... sorry? That you're lonely?"

Ugh, why must emotions be like this? So unpredictable. Rhea usually did not bother. Well, she had moral values, and everything; she did her best not say mean things, unless she felt the conversation required it, like in this case. She had forgotten her old friend Hadley's first rule of bullies: they only repeated the behavior they were exposed to. In other words, bullies were only bullies because they'd been bullied by a bigger bully.

Rhea could only assume Jennifer's behavior was brought on by her parents. That was who had taught her to push people away, thereby making her, well, lonely. How to express that, without offending her? Of course, there was not even a little chance that Jennifer wouldn't lash out if Rhea tried to understand. That was forgivable.

"I think I get it. Your situation, I mean. I don't blame you. Maybe... we could try to be nicer to each other?"

It was a stretch, especially that last part. Rhea didn't expect it to work at all. Still, the least she could do was try.