Bitter <Madi>

It was a fact of life that Gryffindors had a habit of being biased. They might be all about justice and being on the side of good, but their perception of what exactly that entailed could often be a bit skewed. Each tended to believe they were the correct party. And when that could make them fearless when defending a cause, it also made them hell to argue with. Because a Gryffindor convinced of their side would give no quarter. Not even for their best friend.

Some time had passed since the fight with Turner, and Madi’s head had cleared a bit since then. She realized now fighting with Turner hadn’t been the best course of action. It wasn’t like she had set out to fight him though. He had touched her, and she had reacted, and he had reacted back, and it had just sort of snowballed out of control. It was his fault every bit as much as it was hers. But Liza didn’t seem to see it that way. She was apparently under the impression that Madison had straight up assaulted Turner, who she was also apparently trying to make nice with if the whispers of Hogwarts grapevine were to be believed. And that made Madi angry. Actually it hurt her far more than angered her, but she tended to cover pain with anger. Liza had barely even tried to speak to her since that day in King’s office. In fact, she was more or less avoiding Madison outright. (Not that Madi would’ve said much to her, but still. It was the principle of the thing.) And yet apparently she was off checking on Turner who she barely knew. But Turner wasn’t the only one having a shit time. Madi could live with Liza being ticked off about the fight. It wouldn’t be the first time. But what she couldn’t stand was that Turner’s issues seemed to excuse all wrongdoing on his part, while Madison’s own trauma (unwilling though she might be to admit it) apparently amounted to nothing. Liza had chosen to side against Madi at a time when Madi needed her most. And that was unforgivable.

Thankfully the castle was a large place, and there were enough other lions to hang out with that Madi could usually manage to avoid Liza. (Although Quidditch practice was quickly becoming hell on Earth.) But the world seemed to get infinitely smaller whenever Madi was upset with someone. And today when she stepped out of the fifth year girls’ dorm to go find Wolf and the others (both for some fun and because she knew Liza couldn’t stand the other beater), she nearly ran right into Liza. The two girls stared awkwardly at each other, and Madison tried to drop her gaze before Liza could see the hurt flash through her eyes. Liza had picked her side. The redhead did manage a weak greeting, but it sounded forced. Madi didn’t dare look up from her shoes in case Liza was staring at her with that same disappointed frown that had become so common lately. Because if Madison had to look at that expression one more time, she was most definitely going to say something she would regret. Instead she just mumbled, “You’re blocking the hall.” It was a far cry from their usual warm and chipper conversations. But Madi was feeling neither warm nor chipper, especially not with regards to the best friend who for all intents and purposes seemed to have abandoned her. So short and stiff it was.