𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter nine; Between Two Books
" I think he was absent my entire life and me lying to him isn't a big deal in comparison. "

  MADAM ROSEMERTA HARBORED pity for the newest recruitment of the Three Broomsticks' maid services. Sally was a nice girl, she listened and had manners and didn't complain about the uniform, but oh how horrible she was at her job.

  She'd been working for a matter of three days and had accidentally misplaced a trunk, lost an eyebrow to a flame spell gone wrong, regrew said eyebrow thanks to Roman, and got frightened by a quite angry Kneazle.

  "Sally?" The woman asked just before the redhead bustled off to clean another room. "Can I speak with you for a moment?"

  The teen's fear was clear as she followed Madam Rosmerta to a back room, idling awkwardly as she began pouring two cups of tea.

  "So, am I safe to assume this is your first job?"

  "It's. . . that obvious, huh?" Sally asked, breathing out a forced laugh, "Yes, um, first job."

  "Mayes continues to vouch for you," Rosemerta informed, passing the teen a cup of tea, "He's guilty because you ran out of here the other night."

  "Yeah," She laughed, looking down, "I don't know why it matters that much."

  "Because he's too kind for his own good," The woman grinned lightly, "He cares about people, every customer that walks in— he's on first-name basis with our regular clientele."

  Sally looked sad at this. Rosemerta wasn't sure what she'd said wrong, and for a moment sympathized with Roman— it was far too easy to upset Sally.

  "I should get back to work," The redhead said quietly, already standing up, "You aren't paying me to sit around."

  Rosmerta managed a sad smile at the door swinging from Sally's rushed exit, the poor girl was clearly troubled and had a problem running away from whatever was in the adults that upset her.

⥊

  Salem made it an entire week working at the Three Broomsticks before she came back to her dorm to Dottie sitting patiently— a Three Broomsticks housekeeping uniform in hand.

  "Dot—"

  "You're either into things I don't want to know about, or you're doing something ridiculously stupid."

  "Ouch," Salem mumbled, shutting the door fully behind her, "That's harsh."

  "You're a maid at the Three Broomsticks?" Dottie asked, standing fully and letting the uniform rest on the bed behind her, "Don't tell me Roman was your dad and that's why you got a job there."

  Salem fell silent.

  "Does he at least know?"

  "No," Salem mumbled, "He thinks my name's Sally and I'm just some seventh year at Hogwarts."

  "Sal!" Dottie gaped, "You can't do that—"

  "Why not?" 

  "You don't think he deserves to know who he's speaking to— working with?"

  "I think he was absent my entire life and me lying to him isn't a big deal in comparison," Salem answered honestly, her defenses kicking in quickly.

  "But obviously you want some sort of relationship, you're willing to work just to see him a few times a week," Dottie reasoned, "Lying isn't the way to get the father-daughter—"

  "I don't need your advice on this, Dottie," Salem cut off, "You don't get it, you have a perfect family, your parents are still married and in love, you have siblings who are great and you all get together every holiday to be the huge perfect fucking family!"

  Dottie had fallen silent at that, tears stinging in her eyes as Salem's voice climbed to an angry crescendo— the red in her vision blinding her from the fact that she'd hit Dottie's soft spot.

  It was hard having a hard life, but what was often forgotten was that in the very same world existed people with perfectly good lives, that were filled with guilt. Dottie Fitzgerald was one of these people, every time a father was mentioned and Salem's face fell flat, when the redhead remained at Hogwarts because her mother had to work holidays— when Dottie had a family to go home to.

  And it wasn't that Salem ever did or said anything, it was simply existing that made Dottie guilty. Until Salem snapped.

  "I'm going back out," Salem stated, wrenching the door open, "Don't wait up."

  Dottie stayed still as the door slammed shut, she swore the castle reverberated back at her, and when it finally stopped the girl silently climbed into her own bed, staring at the wall in place of sleeping.

  The common room was empty. Salem was barreling towards the door, the only thing that yanked her back was a fresh piece of parchment between two large, and quite boring, books. The girl swept the room with her eyes, and only once knowing for sure she was alone did Salem pluck the paper from it's hiding place.

  It didn't take long for Salem to decide she'd respond. She just needed to know what to say. How to earn his trust back, do what she decided she would in helping him heal. And as Salem clicked her pen out, bearing down on the side of the bookshelf, she decided perhaps it wouldn't be that bad if she took advantage of the situation a little— James didn't know who she was, which meant he could pour his heart out to a faceless girl, while Salem could pour hers out behind a mask. 

  It was a win-win. They were exactly what they needed.

  When satisfied with her words, Salem creased the parchment and tucked it back in place, pocketing James' note. They were beginning to stack up in the bottom of her trunk, and in reality, Salem wasn't quite sure how she'd be hiding them here on out.

  If the notes were found, Salem was outed, and everything was screwed.

  A box, Salem though, she'd buy a box and leave it at The Three Broomsticks— Roman and Rosmerta had a strange soft spot when it came to her so she assumed someone would allow her to leave a hatbox around somewhere.

  She was safe, for now, her anonymity would remain, and perhaps everything would turn up for both her and the other half of her late-night chess escapades.

  This was the new normal. And Salem was okay with it.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
it's been so sO long I'm sorry--
I'LL GET BACK TO IT I SWEAR,
I missed Sal :')
okay, I want to hear opinions,
do you think what Sal is doing is
(morally) wrong? Or is it justified
due to her father being a big
question mark her whole life?