#for me this would look like a discussion on my dads fervent hatred of the bee gees

[nemiza]

podcast where its just interviews with people who have an ok/completely average relationship with their dads taking 30 minutes to an hour psychologically analyzing everything wrong with said dads

[adenei]

Fake It Til You Make It - Ch. 2

AO3 || FFN 

(”I want to be a musician, okay?”)

“Hi Mum! Hi Aunt Muriel. If you’ll just excuse me, I’m quite knackered. I’m going to go—” Ginny tried to skirt by them and make her way up the stairs. 

“Not so fast, Ginevra,” Aunt Muriel said with her nose up in the air. “We have matters to discuss.”

“Aunt Muriel, I know what you’re here for, and with all due respect, being a debutante is not who I am or who I want to be. I want to play football, not dress in layers of tulle and whatever that stuff under the skirt is called,” Ginny tried to explain for the hundredth time.

“Crinoline,” her mother corrected her. “Ginny, just sit down and hear your aunt out. Please?” Her mum was giving her a look that Ginny knew not to defy, no matter how rotten she was feeling.

“Ginevra, I’m well aware that the debutante lifestyle does not fit your...personality, but I am here to offer you a deal,” Aunt Muriel began.

Ginny raised her eyebrows, knowing her aunt always drove a hard bargain. She wondered what was in it for her since Muriel always had a trick up her sleeve to manipulate those to get her way. Unfortunately, being the only Weasley daughter meant there was no one else she could persuade to take her place.

“If you participate in the season, without complaint, I will pay the boarding fees for you to stay on campus at Beauxbatons this year.”

Ginny couldn’t keep her jaw from dropping. Her aunt never offered anything like this. Why was it so important to Muriel for Ginny to participate in the debutante season? Aside from the fact that she was the prime age to participate, it was often a way for the teens to find a partner, one of class, and better standing. Honestly, the whole thing was bloody archaic, and she had no idea why it still existed.

That’s when it hit her. She was a bargaining chip. Muriel would use her to ‘restore her family’s ‘place’ in society. You’ve got to be kidding me, Ginny thought. Sure, her parents didn’t make a ton of money, but they got by. Ron had just received a full scholarship to attend Hogwarts for their music program, and all of her older brothers were proving successful in their lines of work. They didn’t need Ginny to become a pawn in some ruddy game her aunt wanted to play.

“At the very least, please think about it, Ginevra. You are a natural beauty, and you could perform quite well if you allowed yourself to take a chance. As your family’s only daughter, you owe it to them to partake in at least one season. And, since that blasted football team has been disbanded, you’ve got nothing standing in your way this year.”

Anger flowed through her veins as Ginny felt as though she was going to explode. So her aunt had been behind eliminating the girl’s football team! All as a power play so that Muriel could live vicariously through Ginny. This was all so unfair! She needed the professional teams to start scouting her this year, and now all her chances were being thrown out the window at becoming a professional football player because her bloody aunt wanted her to become a debutante.

“No,” Ginny said fervently. 

There was absolutely no way she was going to let Aunt Muriel manipulate her life. Not in a million years. Her mother put her head in her hands, and Ginny felt terrible for a moment. Mum would understand, though. Ginny had goals and plans for her future, none of which involved becoming a debutante or a trophy wife. That was not who she was, nor would she ever be.

Aunt Muriel let out a long sigh. “I had a feeling you’d say that. You’re lucky I won’t be deterred so easily. I will give you two days to think about this, Ginevra. Perhaps you’ll change your mind. What else are you going to do this school year without that useless sport?”

“It’s not a useless sport, Aunt Muriel!” Ginny argued.

“Be that as it may, I know how much you’d love to live on campus with your friends. I can give you that experience. You have my number if you change your mind.” There was an air of finality in Muriel’s voice that told Ginny the conversation was over.

“Does that mean I can be excused now?” she asked through gritted teeth.

Her mother nodded exasperatedly as Ginny stormed up the stairs. She tossed her things in her own room before heading up to the house’s top floor, where Ron’s attic room was. They both shared a mutual hatred for Aunt Muriel, and if anyone would understand her frustration, it was him.  

Ginny walked into Ron’s room and immediately started venting. “Ugh! I can’t believe her nerve” Ron jumped. 

“Whose nerve?”

“Aunt Muriel! Showing up here with those ridiculous dresses and trying to bribe me into joining the debutante season! I even think she had a hand in disbanding the girl’s football team at Beauxbatons. Can you believe it?”

“That’s ridiculous, Gin. There’s no way she has that much influence, even if she’s vindictive enough to do what it takes to get her way.”

“Why are you not more upset about this?”

“I am! I’m just, er, busy,” Ron said.

“Busy with what? Is that a bag you’re packing? I thought you weren’t leaving for Hogwarts until Monday.”

“I, er,” Ron stammered.

“Ron, what are you planning?” Ginny said as she closed his bedroom door. 

Despite being polar opposites, they never kept anything from each other. She always knew when he was up to something, and he knew the same. 

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine, but you can’t tell anyone!” he warned.

“When have I ever given away your secrets before? You know you can trust me.”

“I’m going to be a bit late for the start of term at Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“I’ve been invited to this music competition in Germany. It’s for two weeks, but I have to go, Gin.”

“But you just got a full ride to Hogwarts for your music! Won’t you be jeopardizing that if you take off for two weeks instead of starting on time?”

“Not if someone covers for me and says I’m sick or something. Maybe I’ve got mono or the flu, or...” he shrugged, not bothering to put more thought into a plan.

Not that she wanted to change the topic, but his mention of the ‘kissing’ disease reminded Ginny of her run-in with Lavender. “Speaking of, have you talked to your wretched girlfriend lately?”

Ron winced. “Er, no, I’ve been avoiding her.”

“You don’t say. Must be why I got ambushed on my way back from school. If you’re going to chuck her, then you might as well do it sooner rather than later.”

“Eh, I’ll take care of it when I get back.”

“I don’t understand you. If Mum and Dad find out, they’ll pull you out of Hogwarts before you even have a chance to start!”

“So don’t let them find out. Please, Gin! I need to do this! This could be my shot at getting my music out there. It’s not that I don’t want to explore the classical route, but I don’t know how much I’m going to be able to focus on my own music at school.” Ron was begging Ginny now.

“How? I don’t suppose I could just dress up and pose as you for two weeks,” Ginny said in a bewildered tone.

Despite how ridiculous the statement sounded, the idea hit her full force. But there was no way she’d be able to pull it off, was there? Probably not. Unless….

“I don’t care how you do it. You just need to make sure Mum and Dad don’t find out. I’m going to tell them the auditions are tomorrow, so I’m leaving today. My flight leaves in five hours, so I have to get going.”

“How are you even paying for all of this?” 

“I’m staying at a hostel once I’m there, but Bill lent me money for the flight. I can pay him back if I place in the competition, and if not, then I’ll find a part-time job to pay him back.” Ron hoisted his bag on his back. “Listen, Ginny, I’ve got to go. The bus to London leaves in a half hour, so I really have to go.” He stuck one leg out his open window.

“Why are you going out the window,” she asked him slowly.

“Because Mum and Dad thought I left hours ago. I owe you one, alright?”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just let me know when you get there, okay? And don’t get into any more trouble.”

“Thanks, Gin, you’re the best!” Ron said as he disappeared down the makeshift fire escape.

As Ginny watched him go, the wheels were turning in her mind. Ron was leaving for two weeks. That was just enough time for her to pose as her brother and make the Hogwarts team. Then, she could play in the Beauxbatons game and stick it to Coach Snape and Michael when Hogwarts won. 

She’d show everyone that she was just as good as the boys! Now, how could she just disappear from the house for two weeks? And that’s when it hit her: Aunt Muriel’s offer. She could totally juggle the boy’s training schedule and the debutante program. It’d be tricky, but doable. And she wouldn’t have to try that hard with Ron’s schedule. It’d only be a week of classes, and hopefully, she could fudge her way through the music courses.

I can totally do this, Ginny thought. She headed down the stairs to see if Aunt Muriel was still there to change her answer, and if all went well, she’d be on her way to visit Fred and George next.

[hgihrepaeryster]

A Meeting with Iroh

[Warning: depression, self-loathing, and self-harm are discussed in this story.]

Taking a deep inhalation of the steam floating above his tea, Iroh sat at his plain wooden desk and looked over his paperwork. There was one last student scheduled for today, and it was one he didn’t recognize. Meeting with new students was both a delight and a sorrow, as they each carried with them new baggage that needed to be sorted out. Then again, that’s why he was posted as a counselor at Reaper High.

“Your four o’clock has arrived.” Ms. Bellum’s voice notified him over an intercom.

“Very good,” Iroh responded. “I am ready for him.”

Will entered cautiously. The only thing he’d gotten used to at this school was how there was nothing you could get used to. When he realized how genuinely beautiful the atmosphere was in Iroh’s “office,” however, he was genuinely in awe; lit by dozens of candles, there were two chairs and a sofa set across from Iroh’s desk, all made out of a deep, rich wood that shared the same color as Iroh’s burgundy robes. A small fountain in the corner murmured with flowing water, an apparently natural formation against which the room seemed to have been built.

“You must be William!” Iroh greeted with a smile as warm as the flames. “Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Would you care for some tea?  Lemongrass and chamomile: just the thing for addled nerves.” He offered the mugful he’d just finished making.

Will didn’t normally care for tea, but so long as it was being offered, he was willing to accept. The aroma wafting through the office was quite wonderful, as well. “Yes, thanks.” He replied, accepting the mug as it was passed over to him. Sitting himself down in a chair, he watched as Iroh brought up another mug, filled it with water from the fountain, held it over a candle, and with a wave of his hand caused the flame to engulf the entire bottom of the cup. It wasn’t very long until the water bubbled from the intensity, at which point the old man allowed the flame to die down (the candle had melted halfway down from the heat) and dipped a silk bag containing more herbs into the boiling liquid.

“I am Iroh.” The wizened one began, setting the tea aside to cool as he reached for paper to take notes. “My responsibility is to see to the well-being of those who need it most, and to give students paths where they may see none. You have been here for only so little time, so I can understand if this is an overwhelming atmosphere for you.  Hopefully, I can be of some assistance in helping you navigate it.”

“Thank you,” Will smiled softly. “I was recommended to come see you by Ms. Bellum not long after I got here.  She said you could have some insight into my...problems.”

“I may,” Iroh nodded. “First, I must know what these ‘problems’ are. Take your time.”

“Okay...” Will shifted in his chair, taking a sip of tea. This wasn’t his first experience with a counselor, but it was never easy to explain himself. “I’ve had a long history of self-deprecation. Over the past couple of months, it’s been getting worse and worse, and ever since I came to this school five days ago, I feel like it may be impeding my ability to work.”

“How so?”

“I focus on my faults almost all the time, even when I should be focusing on schoolwork or other things. I keep beating myself up over my mistakes. I’ve tried branching out; Ms. Bellum set me up with meeting a few other students at a picnic, which was...nice? I guess? But it’s still hard for me to admit to any good qualities in myself, and even when I do I have to diminish them.”

“Why?” Iroh questioned.

“I don’t want to be seen as egotistical,” Will answered, “or believing myself to be anything more than I really am. I’ve seen people at other schools put on airs to get popular, but here it’s even more intense. The Krust cousins, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane, Princess...I fear becoming like them so badly.”

“Doing so at the cost of your own livelihood does not help you.” Iroh replied. “Putting yourself down will never pick you back up.”

“I don’t see any other way to go about it, though.” Will sulked. “All I’m doing is being honest about myself.”

“What sort of things do you believe about yourself?”

Will’s mind was quickly filled with examples. He had trouble choosing, though that was mostly because of the hurt each one carried.

No one should ever have to love me; that would be too cruel to them, to let them get hurt by all of my shortcomings. If I really cared about them, I’d do my best to stay out of their way.

What the hell sort of business do I have getting attracted to Jenny? She’s way out of my league and already has a boy with a crush on her that she tolerates - maybe even likes - so why bother giving her another person to worry about? I’m already enough of a creep without having to add “infatuated perv” to the list, yet here i am.

I’m so worthless. When Dad was my age, he was getting advanced placement courses. I’m barely passing my basic requirements. And he’s made himself a multi-billionaire while all I do is live off of his livelihood. What a spiffing example of a self-dependent human being.

I get frightened by the smallest things. I’m a natural klutz. I have nothing redeeming in terms of skill. Socially I might as well be some sort of alien stranger to humans, yet even the aliens here tend to have better social lives than I do.

And for all the pain I’ve caused myself over the years, the one thing I know is that I deserved every single moment of it.

“Talk to me, William.” Iroh requested, concerned. “What are you feeling?”

“I feel...like I don’t deserve any help.” Will finally admitted. “Every bad thing that’s ever happened to me is because I deserved that instead.”

Iroh looked very serious as he continued writing this down. “What makes you so deserving of poor fortune?”

“I...exist?” Will shrugged.

“That’s a very poor reason.” Iroh stated plainly. “Everyone exists; does that make them eligible for this same treatment? Do you suppose I am not deserving of happiness?”

“Not at all!″ Will denied, fervently shaking his head. ”I wouldn’t wish this on anyone else!”

“Then why wish it upon yourself?”

“Because...” This gave Will some genuine pause, until he thought back to his comparisons to the “popular” kids. “...because it’s better than the alternative.”

“You are mistaking one alternative for all alternatives.” Iroh corrected. “There are many paths to happiness, but none of them involve inflicting so much hatred upon yourself. It’s nice to be aware of your ego, but in many ways the ego is what motivates you to survive; throttle it into extinction, and you are throttling the rest of yourself as well.”

“So what do I do?” Will asked. “Keep myself alive by feeding myself ‘You’re a good person’ and other bullshi-” He covered his mouth to keep from saying a curse in front of a faculty member.

Iroh gave a wry grin. “Regardless of the truth of such a statement: even the most beautiful, pleasant-smelling flower can do with some strong fertilizer. At any rate, from what I see in you, I see a strong desire to be a good person. It simply needs to be manifested in a healthier way than putting yourself down.”

“I don’t know how else to do it, apart from hurting myself like I’ve been doing.”

Iroh looked up. “You mean emotionally?”

“Yes..” Will said, trailing off slightly.

“And physically?”

After a pause, Will nodded quietly. He’d never admitted this to anyone before, not even his father. “When I’m at my absolute worst. Not often.” He buried his head in his hands. “Yet too often.”

“With what intent?”

“It’s like to...to knock myself into my senses.” Will began tearing up. “I don’t know if I can describe it that well. I’m the one that’s sick here.”

Iroh gave a nod of somber recognition. “An explanation isn’t quite that important. What is important, however, is that I am here for you even if it seems like no one else is. If you find yourself in such a situation that you need to do such a thing, consider talking to me as an alternative.”

Will took a deep breath. “I will.”

Iroh got up and placed a gentle hand upon the young man’s shoulder.. “Together, we can conquer this darkness within and bring you to the light you deserve.”