5:30 P.M., in a secluded, 6th Floor girl's bathroom far from any dorms or occupied halls...Taryn stood before the bathroom mirror with her hair still wet from the bath, staring miserably at her own reflection. She counted backwards from ten, focusing on the numbers, keeping her mind as blank as she could so the tears would have no reason to come. It was no big deal. Nothing to be upset over.
Five. Four. Three. Two...
She hadn't even liked the stupid dress all that much. It'd been a decent pick. Kayla had found it, on the racks in that Hogsmede store, and she had a good eye. It'd been functional enough, if a bit short. It had fit. Sort've. Taryn couldn't be too picky past that. Now, though. Now it hiked up around her knees, bit deep into her waist, and bunched up in the shoulders. She looked like she'd been forced to play dress-up with her baby sister, squeezed into a garment that couldn't hope to fit right ever again.
Taryn closed her eyes and took another deep breath, counting backwards again. This...this was no big thing. It was just a dress, just a growth spurt, these things happened. True, she should've known when the growing pains set in that she'd soon outstretch everything she owned. She'd been re-sizing her uniforms all week, turning them into temporary circus tents to get through the day. She should've remembered the dress, should've gotten permission to take it in for work or something. But she hadn't, and now it was too late.
But it was okay. She was okay. She hadn't even wanted to go to the stupid ball. What would she miss out on by not going? Spinning around like some flighty twit, stuffy conversation, tripping over her own feet? It wasn't for her. She'd never have fit in anyway.
A tear streaked down her reflection's check. Taryn bit her lip hard.
Damn
everything.
She sank to the floor, feeling the dress's seams snap and tear. She spared just a moment to be glad that she'd thought to come up here to change, to get away from the bustle of everyone preparing for the ball; at least she wouldn't have to suffer the piteous glances of her roommates or the well-meaning but futile attempts to help. She crouched over her knees and wrapped her arms around her head, telling herself to pull it together. Big girls don't cry. Big girls don't cry.
From behind, she heard the familiar sliding hiss of scales against the stone floor. A moment later, Nagendra
[1] wrapped around her, starting at her feet and winding in a full circle before nudging his head in between her arms. He stared up at her with round, black eyes and hissed softly in concern.
Taryn sniffled and wiped her eyes, rubbing the snake's favorite spot on the back of his head. "I'm okay baby," she muttered, sounding anything but. "Mama's okay, don't you worry. It's nothing that matters, really. Nothing at all."
Naggie hissed his disbelief, nuzzling into the fabric of her spoiled dress. He stayed there a moment, quiet and still. Then was moving again, over her this time rather than around, the tip of his tail coiling around her waist as he slid deliberately to the door. He stopped when he reached the end of his rope and tugged at her, his body coiling and uncoiling around her waist.
"What? I'm not going out there like this." Taryn tried to shake the serpent off her, but the tail only wrapped around her wrist and tugged again. She finally gave in and stood up, wrapping the wet towel around her shoulders before following Naggie out the door.
The halls were mostly empty, save for pockets of chatter that both deftly avoided when they heard it coming. Naggie soon released Taryn's arm, but kept slithering around behind her to nudge her feet in the right direction around this corner or down the hall. Taryn's brow furled as he lead her up the stairs, then to the left, down a long corridor with only a tapestry for decoration. Here, Naggie finally disengaged from her legs and began to pace the floor, slithering all the way up the center of the corridor before double back and doing it again.
Taryn watched her pet with ever-growing confusion, not knowing what to say. Horned serpents were incredibly intelligent magical beasts. They couldn't speak human language, but anyone who know them -- as she did -- knew that they were at least as sensible as most human, if not more than most. Nagendra wouldn't have brought her up here unless there was a reason, but if there was one, she couldn't see it.
She was about to leave when the door appeared. There was no sound, no puff of smoke or flicker of magical power. She blinked and it was there, as though it had always been. Naggie slithered right up to the door and curled in front of it, turning back to hiss at Taryn encouragingly.
The room she stepped into was not an especially large one. It had rather the same proportions as a walk-in closet, scaled to fit someone her size, as though it had been built for her. At the end, directly opposite the door, was a full-length mirror taller than any she'd ever seen. The walls on either side were lined with some of the largest dresses she'd ever seen.
Mystified, Taryn ran her hands along the garments, getting a feel for their heavy fabric and thick fur. She didn't know much about fashion, but even she could tell that the designs were ancient, old enough that she'd never seen anything like them in the portraits of Salem, only on the ancient subjects that roamed Hogwarts's halls. And they were huge. Taryn pulled one off the rack and turned to the mirror, holding it against her. Its long skirt brushed the floor and its shoulders easily measured hers. It looked like...like it could actually fit, like it was made to fit maybe not her, but someone like her.
The room smelled like a wizard's antique shop, heavy with dust and the cold weight of time. It clung to the fabric of every robe. Taryn could imagine this as the bureau of some ancient half-giant from the north, someone from a good family who could have any complaints about their child's origins swept under the rug. Or had Hogwarts been accepting even then? Now she almost wished she'd paid more attention in History of Magic.
Naggie slid into the room behind her, letting the door swing closed. He coiled around her ankles as though to ask if she was okay now. Taryn carefully folded the dress over her arm and rubbed his head. "Thank you," she said, her voice quiet and unsteady. If she raised any higher, she might cry again for entirely new reasons.
Nagendra seemed to understand. He closed his eyes and nuzzled her hand with an undeniable expression of contentment. Then he slithered under the hangings dresses, pushing several pairs of shoes out into the open.
Taryn took the hint with smile. They had a ball to prepare for, after all, and it wasn't going to wait for anyone.
[December 19] Cinderella Until Midnight (snapshot)