Monsoon Wings

That morning, while brushing her teeth in the bathroom, Juno heard Hermione calling her name from the dorms. Juno spat and gargled quickly and, wiping her mouth with a small towel, walked out of the bathroom. Hermione was busy combing her bushy hair.

‘What is it? You called me?’ Juno asked, wiping her wet chin.

‘Yeah. There is an owl for you,’ Hermione pointed to the tiny bird resting in the window sill pecking at its wings, a note tied to its leg. ‘From you-and-me-know-who.’ She added disdainfully.

Oh no, not again please.

Juno reluctantly pulled the string and opened the note. The loopy handwriting was the same, but the way she read it was different.

“Juno, for the two hundred and thirty-ninth time, I’m sorry. I did not know what I was doing. I am mental. I am crazy. I am a jerk. I am an asshole. I am shit. I am an aggravating bastard. Call me any names you want. I’m sorry. I was drunk that night.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Now that’s the two hundred and fifty-ninth time.

You can slap me, hit me, curse me, anything is okay. But please talk to me. I am still waiting for you.

Please.

I’m sorry.

Stamp.”

Juno coughed and crumpled the parchment and threw it into the waste basket. She motioned the owl to leave. The owl seemed to understand even before she motioned it—because it knew there would be no reply letter to send back. It flew away, wings fluttering. Juno closed the window tightly and the condition of the waste basket caught her eyes. It was full; the crumpled parchments had formed a small mountain exceeding the brim, and some paper balls had toppled out.

Goodness.

‘How many notes had he sent you?’ Hermione asked, noticing the waste basket as well. ‘There seems to be like hundreds.’

‘I don’t know,’ Juno opened her trunk and pulled out her white shirt, skirt, and robes.

‘It’s obvious. He’s been sending you, like, twenty owls per day,’ Hermione walked to the window and glanced down. The Gryffindor tower was on the other corner of the castle and they could not see his hut from there. Which, according to Juno, was fortunate. She couldn’t bear noticing him ogling at her through the window.

‘He seems sincere, though,’ Hermione added, smirking knowingly.

‘Oh, give me a break,’ Juno cut groggily.

During breakfast, Juno again caught Draco glancing at her. This time when she looked at him, he did not look away. Instead, he mouthed “monkey-brain” to her. She tried hard not to grin. She mouthed “dick-head” to him and his face went red. He stuck his tongue out at her and talked to Olivia.

‘What is that about?’ Harry had noticed. He looked at the Slytherin table and saw Draco chewing his pancake. Harry turned his gaze to Juno.

‘I just called him dick-head,’ Juno raised a hand to avoid any more questions.

It wasn’t until last night that she had thought of many annoying names to call Draco Malfoy. Monkey-brain and scum bag had gone stale. Then, when she had almost drifted to sleep, she realized something funny. The name Draco started with a “D”— and there are huge numbers of ugly words starting with D. Like Dick head, Dung Beetle, Dirty Brain, Dug Face, and many more.

‘Have you found your wand, Jayden?’ Hermione opened up a topic.

‘Forget it, it is gone,’ Jayden replied miserably. ‘There’s nothing you and I can do.’

The first class that morning was Divination. Everyone glumly walked to the stifling hot room except Hermione, who was headed to Ancient Runes.

Olivia never took up Divination since her third year. She marched with Hermione to Arithmancy.

Usually, Juno would be paired with Jayden. But since their fight, they had never talked personally again. Harry went to sit with Ron, Parvati with Lavender. There was no one else. Hence, Juno sat at her usual seat. Jayden came not long after and sat next to her, taking out his books. When they caught each others’ eyes they smiled awkwardly.

That day they were learning about Countenancy, which is the art of foretelling the future based on a person’s characteristics. One most common way is looking at moles or birthmarks.

The class turned a bit noisy as the students searched their moles and birthmarks. Jayden and Juno spent the first five minutes stifling their laughter as they tried to search their skins for the biggest mole they had. Juno had one near her left upper arm; Jayden had one biggest right in the centre of his chest. They could hear Ron talking to Harry behind.

‘I have a birthmark on my stomach,’ Ron claimed, trying to peep inside his robes. ‘Oddly enough, it looks like my dad’s face.’

‘Does my scar count?’ Harry asked stupidly.

‘That’s not a birth mark. So I don’t think so.’

Hearing their conversation, Jayden and Juno spent another two minutes searching for birthmarks. Unfortunately Jayden had none; so they chose to stick with moles.

As they were shuffling the pages of their textbook finding the interpretation, Juno glanced up and caught Draco rolling up his right sleeve, showing Blaise a certain mole or birthmark near his elbow. Blaise knitted his brow and searched his textbook. Then Draco exclaimed, telling Blaise that he had another mole on his neck.

‘I’ve got yours,’ Jayden said proudly. ‘Listen—“You know your kids are in safe hands if you find this mole on a woman, as this is a woman who loves children. She will also have great affinity with them.” Nice, uh?’

‘I’ve got yours also,’ Juno folded the book, quoting the statement she had found. ‘A mole on your chest, eh? Here: “This is the sign of a very ambitious person with big dreams. If there are other indications of success on your palm, you could rise to great prominence.”’

‘Where, there aren’t any on my palm,’ Jayden said, checking his palms.

Meanwhile, Blaise had found Draco’s prophecy.

‘“This mole indicates one who is very passionate with a high sex drive.”’ Blaise quoted. Draco smirked.

After the class, everyone scrambled to Herbology. Jayden had vanished first because he had forgotten his Herbology textbook in his dorms. Hoping it did not go missing again, he ran to the Gryffindor tower.

Meanwhile, Juno caught up with Draco and grinned. ‘High sex drive, eh?’ she mocked, and he laughed.

‘You know, just saying. I’m free every Saturdays now,’ Draco said to Juno as they walked together down the staircase, away from the boiling airless classroom. Pansy had clung to his arm; and he had shoved her aside haughtily. Red-faced, she had retreated and walked with her friends instead.

‘Okay,’ Juno said. ‘And what was the point in telling me your free day?’

Draco threw her a murderous look. ‘Perhaps you would want us to spend it together.’

Juno tried to picture cute little rabbits jumping around in a meadow. So as not to blush. But she blushed anyway. She felt the heat rising up through neck, and settling at her cheek buds. ‘As friends?’

‘As master and slave,’ he uttered expressionlessly. When she looked at him incredulously, he smirked. ‘Don’t forget that.’ He laughed.

Though so, the moment Juno looked into his blue-eyes, she felt a new feeling inside her. It was content, peace, and safety. What had happened between them? Firstly they quarrelled like puppies. Now they have promised to spend time together. But for her, each and everyday she spent with him was a bait to the new desire slowly inflating, taking space in her heart. He was cruel, yes, but the fate of an unprotected girl would be far more worse than the rough embrace of the tall blond guy. She was used to seeing his eyes, that she refused to look at others.

When she looked at his lips taunted in a laugh, and the lines of gleaming teeth inside, she felt like everything was into place. For the first time ever in her life, she wondered, Does he have the same feeling as I am?