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mina_de_malfois at 08:37am on 24/07/2007 under memoirs
mina_de_malfois at 08:37am on 24/07/2007 under memoirsOkay, here’s the thing: there’s something in this update that could count as a very indirect spoiler for Deathly Hallows. In the interest of not spoiling any of you who are avoiding spoilers, I’m warning you now. So: don’t read this unless you have already been spoiled/don’t mind spoilers/don’t care about HP fandom anyway. Don’t even read the comments, just in case.
Xena escorted me firmly back to the dorm the minute she noticed I was on my third martini, which was dashed unfair of her, as I felt I was really only just beginning to acquire a taste for them. Her legs were too long to keep up with, which is why I kept tripping up in my own feet and having to be held up; I tried explaining that, but she shot me rather a stern, silent look, and brought me all the way up to my room. I felt a brief thrill of something or other, but she discarded me without further incident, dropping me in an undignified heap on my bed.
I shut my eyes, to rest them, and when I opened them Xena had just succeeded in jimmying open the top drawer of Jen’s desk. ‘You shouldn’t be doing that,’ I said.
‘Probably not,’ she agreed cheerfully, riffling through the contents. She picked up a small framed photograph and frowned at it thoughtfully. ‘What do you make of this?’ she asked, tossing it at me. I reached out and caught it automatically, and I don’t even play Quidditch. It was a picture of two young girls, obviously twins, although the one in shorts appeared to have hacked off her own hair--or perhaps, I thought shrewdly, the demure looking sister was responsible; she looked the type to subject innocent victims to games of hairdresser. She was smiling sweetly at the photographer, her own long ringlets in perfect order, while her half-bobbed sibling glared angrily.
‘I have to be going,’ Xena announced, and stood up. She scanned me critically and asked if I was feeling all right, and once I’d given her a coherent answer, laden with wounded dignity, she smiled and left. I lay around contemplating life for a while, and then realized that for all I knew Jen could return at any moment, so I’d better replace that pic. Except I couldn’t. Xena had shut the desk drawer, and it had relocked itself. I had to settle for shoving the photo under my pillow, although dropping it down a garbage chute also came in for consideration.
Knowing I had that Horrible Artifact in my possession cast rather a pall over the next few days. Mind you, I wasn’t the only one having a pall cast over them. Mrs.Sev dashed up to me the next time I logged in, and she was sobbing so hysterically it took a while before I could even understand what she wanted. I waived the fees gladly, and gave her my full permission to hold as long a wake or vigil or whatever as she felt was necessary under the circumstances. Judging by the way she was carrying on when I extricated myself from her dampish embrace, it would be a lengthy mourning indeed. Lily and her fellow-travellers might well disappear into my temple of grief and never be heard from again.
That was a vaguely depressing thought. I’d miss them if they went away; I’d grown unexpectedly fond of them and their brand of harmless crazy. Luckily a contagious outbreak of exaggerated friendship was sweeping the net, which was cheering if mildly perplexing to watch. I turned happily to this latest distraction.
Best friendship had made a comeback. Vying to outshine each other in their displays of BFFness and Ethereal Friendship, these pairs of kindred spirits feverishly wrote poems, drew portraits, dedicated fics, created birthday comms and ‘Just ‘cuz I love you!!’ comms galore, and bought a veritable vault’s worth of iconspace and virtual gifts. As the level of chumly devotion and competitive love increased, the gift-giving burst its virtual bonds, and soon the real measure of friendship was whether you’d quested long and hard to find her wishlist (though none of these was terribly well-concealed, to be honest, and most were coyly displayed right there in the beloved’s userinfo) and bought her an actual, tangible gift. Or gifts. Or one gift from every wishlist. The friendships rapidly grew ever closer, ever more fiercely displayed, and ever more expensive.
Sanguinity’s modest contribution was the newly created Friendship Park, so when I next logged in I landed there, just to take a look. There were tasteful signs indicating the particular bond which had caused each tree, flowerbed, and bench to be created. There were named names and proclamations of fondest friendship on every stone of the paths. there were, slightly less tastefully, bunches of BFF balloons tied everywhere, and brightly coloured proclamations of new friendships pinned to the bulletin boards.
I didn’t immediately realize what had prompted all of this. I mean, maybe the internet was just having a particularly friendly week. That could happen, right? Maybe. And the fad seemed sourceless--no particular canon was being cited, and the friendships spread across several fandoms. But the various signs and notices were all using a catchphrase: Friendship is the Highest Truth. I recognized that from somewhere. Memory failed me, but my cache didn’t, and it leapt off the screen at me. ‘Friendship is the Highest Truth’ had been the title of Rabbit’s post announcing her, um, newly ‘revealed’ Astral Relationship with Stasia. So she’d started this, and infected everyone else.
That made me feel better, actually, about not having had a BFF of my own step forward to claim me in this latest friending frenzy. I’d been beginning to feel left out. Of course I didn’t want some lunatic proclaiming devotion to me and making public displays of excessive affection. I’d have had to turn down anyone who’d asked for single-minded ethereal friendship. But...no one had asked. Oh, during the past week I’d had a few things bought off my wishlist by fangirls, but they weren’t people I really knew. And I’d had the usual anonymous donations of paid time and icons and sparkling virtual things, but these anon intangibles had lost a little of their shine, somehow. Maybe I was missing out. Stasia had looked so happy the last time I’d seen her.
Of course, my irrational moment of envy ended abruptly when I walked into the Manor and found Stasia sitting on the stairs, crying inconsolably. ‘What happened?’ I asked, hurrying to sit beside her. She was too upset to tell me, though she did shake her head ‘no’ when I asked if this was about the Dark Schoolmaster. My next guess was that this was something to do with Rabbit. She sobbed harder in confirmation. I sat there making soothing noises and handing her avatar tissues, wondering if maybe I should persuade her to come over onto IM or something, where there’d be less verisimilitude but more actual communication. We were still sitting there when Liz walked in a few minutes later. ‘Liz,’ I said, tremendously relieved. ‘Help. Something’s upset Stasia. It’s relationship stuff, I think.’
‘I’ll make tea,’ Liz said. ‘Come sit in the kitchen.’ Several sips of hot, sweet tea later Stasia had pulled it together enough to use words to communicate, and I marvelled at the degree of internal consistency between Sanguinity’s avatar action and embedded temperament settings.
‘It’s Rabbit,’ Stasia confided. ‘I thought things were going so well. I just paid for her registration at Wands Across.’
‘Wow,’ I interrupted, unable to keep silent. Liz whistled.
Stasia waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, everyone’s doing that,’ she said. ‘After all, what kind of friendship would it be if you weren’t willing to pay for a chance to meet up, right? Of course, I had to put it on my credit card, but I totally didn’t mind. But then,’ Stasia sniffed, and Liz reached for the teapot. ‘But then I saw people discussing how in the old days Rabbit always used to go to cons with the same person, and how they were probably real BFFs, and Astrally Entwined, and she’s probably just lying to herself about me because she misses her--’ She broke off abruptly to cry into her teacup for a bit.
‘There, there,’ said Liz. ‘Try not to worry about it. So Rabbit’s had boyfriends; so what? Who cares, really? Everyone has pairings in their past. What matters is who you end up with.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if she’d been BFFy with a guy,’ Stasia said scornfully. ‘I know she used to date Josh Amos. But everyone’s saying she used to have a famous girl BFF, and that they were really Kindred Spirits.’
‘Who?’ I asked. ‘I mean, who was this female BNF BFF supposed to have been?’
‘Razzberry Martini,’ Stasia wailed.
I confided some of this to Arc via IM, naturally, but she wasn’t on all that often. She was busy packing, and when I politely inquired further she said she expected to be away from campus for the rest of the summer. I plunged instantly into several abysses’ worth of glumness.
Heedless, she went on callously, ‘Of course, I’ll be at Wands Across in August.’
‘Yes,’ I IM’d back miserably. ‘A lot of people will be.’ Dignity forbade my adding that, had finances permitted, I’d almost have considered going myself.
‘And in the fall we’ll have to see about finding you some part-time work,’ she messaged back. ‘I thought perhaps a position at the library might suit.’
‘I’d love a position at the library,’ I responded eagerly. ‘Any position.’
‘Ta for now, then,’ she said, and logged off. She’d brightened my spirits considerably, giving me something to look forward to in the fall--but that still left the summer to get through. My spirits dimmed again.
I jumped nervously as the lock clicked and the door swung open. In breezed Jen, wearing a St. Schol’s shirt, and looking youthful and collegiate--but probably Leopold and Loeb had looked youthful and collegiate, back in the day.
And here I was, with that damned picture under my pillow.
‘The housemother was holding this for you, so I said I’d deliver it,’ Jen was saying. She tossed a large envelope at my feet, and then looked at me more closely. ‘Are you all right, Mina? You look pale.’
‘Probably sickening for something,’ I said. ‘Could be horribly contagious. Lethal, even. You’ll probably want to keep your distance, or quarantine me utterly, really.’
She looked amused and un-put-off. ‘What, abandon you in your hour of need?’ she drawled, flopping down on her bed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be here to stroke your fevered brow, and all that.’
My brow grew markedly more fevered at the thought. To hide my agitation, I picked up the envelope. It was from Arc. I tore it open happily. It was full of tickets and flyers and instructions and receipts, and a map, and schedules.
‘Oh my god,’ I said out loud when it finally sunk in.
‘What?’ asked Jen lazily, not opening her eyes.
‘It’s Wands Across,’ I answered, breathless with delight and terror. ‘I’m registered. And it’s all been paid for.’
Jen stopped trying to nap and sat up. ‘Wait,’ she said, looking delighted. ‘Wands Across? You’re going? You’re going to a con?’
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. Was I? Should I?
footnotes
Xena escorted me firmly back to the dorm the minute she noticed I was on my third martini, which was dashed unfair of her, as I felt I was really only just beginning to acquire a taste for them. Her legs were too long to keep up with, which is why I kept tripping up in my own feet and having to be held up; I tried explaining that, but she shot me rather a stern, silent look, and brought me all the way up to my room. I felt a brief thrill of something or other, but she discarded me without further incident, dropping me in an undignified heap on my bed.
I shut my eyes, to rest them, and when I opened them Xena had just succeeded in jimmying open the top drawer of Jen’s desk. ‘You shouldn’t be doing that,’ I said.
‘Probably not,’ she agreed cheerfully, riffling through the contents. She picked up a small framed photograph and frowned at it thoughtfully. ‘What do you make of this?’ she asked, tossing it at me. I reached out and caught it automatically, and I don’t even play Quidditch. It was a picture of two young girls, obviously twins, although the one in shorts appeared to have hacked off her own hair--or perhaps, I thought shrewdly, the demure looking sister was responsible; she looked the type to subject innocent victims to games of hairdresser. She was smiling sweetly at the photographer, her own long ringlets in perfect order, while her half-bobbed sibling glared angrily.
‘I have to be going,’ Xena announced, and stood up. She scanned me critically and asked if I was feeling all right, and once I’d given her a coherent answer, laden with wounded dignity, she smiled and left. I lay around contemplating life for a while, and then realized that for all I knew Jen could return at any moment, so I’d better replace that pic. Except I couldn’t. Xena had shut the desk drawer, and it had relocked itself. I had to settle for shoving the photo under my pillow, although dropping it down a garbage chute also came in for consideration.
Knowing I had that Horrible Artifact in my possession cast rather a pall over the next few days. Mind you, I wasn’t the only one having a pall cast over them. Mrs.Sev dashed up to me the next time I logged in, and she was sobbing so hysterically it took a while before I could even understand what she wanted. I waived the fees gladly, and gave her my full permission to hold as long a wake or vigil or whatever as she felt was necessary under the circumstances. Judging by the way she was carrying on when I extricated myself from her dampish embrace, it would be a lengthy mourning indeed. Lily and her fellow-travellers might well disappear into my temple of grief and never be heard from again.
That was a vaguely depressing thought. I’d miss them if they went away; I’d grown unexpectedly fond of them and their brand of harmless crazy. Luckily a contagious outbreak of exaggerated friendship was sweeping the net, which was cheering if mildly perplexing to watch. I turned happily to this latest distraction.
Best friendship had made a comeback. Vying to outshine each other in their displays of BFFness and Ethereal Friendship, these pairs of kindred spirits feverishly wrote poems, drew portraits, dedicated fics, created birthday comms and ‘Just ‘cuz I love you!!’ comms galore, and bought a veritable vault’s worth of iconspace and virtual gifts. As the level of chumly devotion and competitive love increased, the gift-giving burst its virtual bonds, and soon the real measure of friendship was whether you’d quested long and hard to find her wishlist (though none of these was terribly well-concealed, to be honest, and most were coyly displayed right there in the beloved’s userinfo) and bought her an actual, tangible gift. Or gifts. Or one gift from every wishlist. The friendships rapidly grew ever closer, ever more fiercely displayed, and ever more expensive.
Sanguinity’s modest contribution was the newly created Friendship Park, so when I next logged in I landed there, just to take a look. There were tasteful signs indicating the particular bond which had caused each tree, flowerbed, and bench to be created. There were named names and proclamations of fondest friendship on every stone of the paths. there were, slightly less tastefully, bunches of BFF balloons tied everywhere, and brightly coloured proclamations of new friendships pinned to the bulletin boards.
I didn’t immediately realize what had prompted all of this. I mean, maybe the internet was just having a particularly friendly week. That could happen, right? Maybe. And the fad seemed sourceless--no particular canon was being cited, and the friendships spread across several fandoms. But the various signs and notices were all using a catchphrase: Friendship is the Highest Truth. I recognized that from somewhere. Memory failed me, but my cache didn’t, and it leapt off the screen at me. ‘Friendship is the Highest Truth’ had been the title of Rabbit’s post announcing her, um, newly ‘revealed’ Astral Relationship with Stasia. So she’d started this, and infected everyone else.
That made me feel better, actually, about not having had a BFF of my own step forward to claim me in this latest friending frenzy. I’d been beginning to feel left out. Of course I didn’t want some lunatic proclaiming devotion to me and making public displays of excessive affection. I’d have had to turn down anyone who’d asked for single-minded ethereal friendship. But...no one had asked. Oh, during the past week I’d had a few things bought off my wishlist by fangirls, but they weren’t people I really knew. And I’d had the usual anonymous donations of paid time and icons and sparkling virtual things, but these anon intangibles had lost a little of their shine, somehow. Maybe I was missing out. Stasia had looked so happy the last time I’d seen her.
Of course, my irrational moment of envy ended abruptly when I walked into the Manor and found Stasia sitting on the stairs, crying inconsolably. ‘What happened?’ I asked, hurrying to sit beside her. She was too upset to tell me, though she did shake her head ‘no’ when I asked if this was about the Dark Schoolmaster. My next guess was that this was something to do with Rabbit. She sobbed harder in confirmation. I sat there making soothing noises and handing her avatar tissues, wondering if maybe I should persuade her to come over onto IM or something, where there’d be less verisimilitude but more actual communication. We were still sitting there when Liz walked in a few minutes later. ‘Liz,’ I said, tremendously relieved. ‘Help. Something’s upset Stasia. It’s relationship stuff, I think.’
‘I’ll make tea,’ Liz said. ‘Come sit in the kitchen.’ Several sips of hot, sweet tea later Stasia had pulled it together enough to use words to communicate, and I marvelled at the degree of internal consistency between Sanguinity’s avatar action and embedded temperament settings.
‘It’s Rabbit,’ Stasia confided. ‘I thought things were going so well. I just paid for her registration at Wands Across.’
‘Wow,’ I interrupted, unable to keep silent. Liz whistled.
Stasia waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, everyone’s doing that,’ she said. ‘After all, what kind of friendship would it be if you weren’t willing to pay for a chance to meet up, right? Of course, I had to put it on my credit card, but I totally didn’t mind. But then,’ Stasia sniffed, and Liz reached for the teapot. ‘But then I saw people discussing how in the old days Rabbit always used to go to cons with the same person, and how they were probably real BFFs, and Astrally Entwined, and she’s probably just lying to herself about me because she misses her--’ She broke off abruptly to cry into her teacup for a bit.
‘There, there,’ said Liz. ‘Try not to worry about it. So Rabbit’s had boyfriends; so what? Who cares, really? Everyone has pairings in their past. What matters is who you end up with.’
‘I wouldn’t mind if she’d been BFFy with a guy,’ Stasia said scornfully. ‘I know she used to date Josh Amos. But everyone’s saying she used to have a famous girl BFF, and that they were really Kindred Spirits.’
‘Who?’ I asked. ‘I mean, who was this female BNF BFF supposed to have been?’
‘Razzberry Martini,’ Stasia wailed.
I confided some of this to Arc via IM, naturally, but she wasn’t on all that often. She was busy packing, and when I politely inquired further she said she expected to be away from campus for the rest of the summer. I plunged instantly into several abysses’ worth of glumness.
Heedless, she went on callously, ‘Of course, I’ll be at Wands Across in August.’
‘Yes,’ I IM’d back miserably. ‘A lot of people will be.’ Dignity forbade my adding that, had finances permitted, I’d almost have considered going myself.
‘And in the fall we’ll have to see about finding you some part-time work,’ she messaged back. ‘I thought perhaps a position at the library might suit.’
‘I’d love a position at the library,’ I responded eagerly. ‘Any position.’
‘Ta for now, then,’ she said, and logged off. She’d brightened my spirits considerably, giving me something to look forward to in the fall--but that still left the summer to get through. My spirits dimmed again.
I jumped nervously as the lock clicked and the door swung open. In breezed Jen, wearing a St. Schol’s shirt, and looking youthful and collegiate--but probably Leopold and Loeb had looked youthful and collegiate, back in the day.
And here I was, with that damned picture under my pillow.
‘The housemother was holding this for you, so I said I’d deliver it,’ Jen was saying. She tossed a large envelope at my feet, and then looked at me more closely. ‘Are you all right, Mina? You look pale.’
‘Probably sickening for something,’ I said. ‘Could be horribly contagious. Lethal, even. You’ll probably want to keep your distance, or quarantine me utterly, really.’
She looked amused and un-put-off. ‘What, abandon you in your hour of need?’ she drawled, flopping down on her bed. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be here to stroke your fevered brow, and all that.’
My brow grew markedly more fevered at the thought. To hide my agitation, I picked up the envelope. It was from Arc. I tore it open happily. It was full of tickets and flyers and instructions and receipts, and a map, and schedules.
‘Oh my god,’ I said out loud when it finally sunk in.
‘What?’ asked Jen lazily, not opening her eyes.
‘It’s Wands Across,’ I answered, breathless with delight and terror. ‘I’m registered. And it’s all been paid for.’
Jen stopped trying to nap and sat up. ‘Wait,’ she said, looking delighted. ‘Wands Across? You’re going? You’re going to a con?’
I stared at her, momentarily speechless. Was I? Should I?