Episode 3.3
Hortensia entered the common room in such a state later that evening that she barely even took the time to be annoyed by Patrick’s presence in the corner she and Amelia usually shared. She threw herself into an armchair and sighed heavily.
‘What’s gotten into you?’ Patrick asked wearily, rolling his eyes at Amelia. ‘No, wait. Let me guess. Bentley Thorpe is a snobby bastard and it’s only taken you five whole years to actually notice.’
Hortensia glared at him. ‘What do you want anyway, Cleary? Aren’t you usually smoking in the astronomy tower by this time?’
Patrick smirked. ‘I’ve given it up.’ He exchanged a small glance with Amelia, who smiled warmly. ‘Apparently they’re bad for you.’
‘Yes, well, it’s only taken you five whole years to notice,’ Hortensia huffed, pulling out her Ancient Runes textbook and flicking through it briefly, before putting it away in disgust. ‘Bloody Bentley Thorpe,’ she muttered. ‘Self-righteous, snobbish, pompous, arrogant ...’
‘You’ve done projects with him before,’ Amelia reminded her. ‘You always get through them all right, with decent enough marks.’
‘Oh yes, we get very good marks actually.’ Hortensia agreed. ‘But not until after he’s had his fill of tormenting me, treating me like something he found on the bottom of his shoe, looking down his nose - high and mighty bloody pig, it’s not as though he’s got any ground to stand on, not like his family state is anything to boast about. Honestly, it’s as though he thinks he’s the king of Hogwarts and we should all worship him simply for gracing the halls with his presence.’
Patrick snorted. ‘I don’t suppose you told him any of this?’
‘Of course I didn’t. He’s Bentley Thorpe. All he has to do is look at me and I feel like I should crawl into a hole and die. He gives me the creeps.’ She shuddered. Amelia looked concerned.
‘I’m sure he’s not so bad,’ she protested. ‘You never know, you could have something in common.’
‘I sincerely doubt it,’ Hortensia replied decidedly. ‘In fact, I’m not entirely sure that he’s completely human. Still, I suppose at least I don’t have to be paired with Aileen.’
Amelia bit her lip and didn’t offer any further consolation. Patrick grinned however, and glanced across the common room to where Aileen was lecturing some poor souls on the tedious details of her family’s dragon reservation.
‘I’m sure she’s the only person in the world who could make dragons boring,’ he remarked drily.
‘Well, at least she doesn’t come over here and bother us in the evenings,’ Hortensia said pointedly, narrowing her eyes at Patrick. ‘Was there anything in particular that you wanted, Cleary?’
Amelia quickly cleared her throat. ‘Patrick was helping me with my Potions essay,’ she said, in a voice that was a little more high-pitched than usual. ‘Professor Snape is going to be marking at OWL level, so I want to make sure I understand the material.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Patrick assured her. ‘Snape is strict, but fair.’
Hortensia raised her eyebrows. ‘Fair? Snape?’ She laughed. ‘You’re mad. Didn’t you hear what happened to poor Bill Weasley last week?’
‘That was Van Dork, not Snape. It’s not Snape’s fault that the people in his house are gits.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Hortensia muttered under her breath, so that Patrick couldn’t hear. She knew how much he liked Potions, and how much he respected the Professor. It was about the only magic that he did like, and Hortensia didn’t really have the heart to point out that nobody else could stand it.
‘And anyway, I’ve got nothing against Weasley, but those Gryffindors aren’t exactly saints, are they?’
Hortensia couldn’t exactly disagree with this, so she just shrugged.
‘Are you going to go to the quidditch next week, Hortensia? Patrick and I were talking about it.’ Amelia seemed desperate to change the subject, but her attempt only brought Hortensia’s attention back to Patrick’s continued presence.
‘I wouldn’t have thought you would like quidditch,’ she said, narrowing her eyes at him. ‘It’s all a bit ... magical, isn’t it?’
It was Patrick’s turn to shrug.
‘It’s mad, but so are most things in this castle. I mean, the rules make no sense, and it seems ridiculously dangerous in a way that only a wizarding sport could be; but it is at least mildly entertaining if only to see people showing off magic which is wildly stupid and useless.’
‘I see.’ Hortensia raised her eyebrows.
‘Of course, most magic is stupid and useless,’ Patrick added, with a slight bitter twist to his tone.
Hortensia clicked her tongue impatiently.
‘I can’t understand you, Patrick Cleary. You would honestly rather live as a muggle, would you?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with living as a muggle,’ Patrick replied defensively. ‘Worked out all right for my mum and dad.’
‘You just don’t know how lucky - ’
‘Lucky? To be treated like a second-class citizen for something I can’t control? You have no idea -’
‘Don’t talk to me like that, you stupid -’
‘Well stop talking about things you don’t understand, you prissy little -’
‘Ahem.’ Amelia cleared her throat obviously, drawing Patrick and Hortensia out of their favourite debate. They stared at her.
‘Thomas told me that I have to attend the quidditch, on pain of death,’ she informed them nervously. ‘So I’d really appreciate it if you guys would come and keep me company.’
Hortensia and Patrick glanced at each other guiltily.
‘I’ll come,’ Patrick said brightly. ‘Got to be better than Charms homework.’
Hortensia frowned at him, wondering when it was that Patrick Cleary started getting invited to go to school events with them.
‘Well, I can’t say that quidditch particularly thrills me, but I can’t think of anything better to do on a Saturday,’ she sighed. Amelia smiled.
‘Oh, good. We’ll have to wear Hufflepuff colours, of course.’
‘Well, I wasn’t planning on supporting Slytherin,’ Hortensia retorted. ‘Particularly not if it means supporting that high-and-mighty arrogant pig Bentley Thorpe.’
Patrick laughed at this.
Hortensia, who couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t laughing at her, glared at him for the rest of the evening.