From Hypothetical Questions to a Full Blown Story

I have the weirdest hobbies.


It is currently four in the morning, and I am, once again, talking on the phone with my best friend. Having spent four days at home (Classes were suspended due to heavy rains and flooding…and it wasn’t even a storm!) We spent majority of the night insulting each other’s dueling skills in Pottermore and declaring that our Sorting was rigged for the other’s entertainment. (He’s convinced he should be in Gryffindor, I’m the same for Slytherin. In reality, I’m in Gryffindor and he’s in Hufflepuff.) We went through the motions of poking fun at each other’s Houses. It went something along these lines:

“Hah. Lost again. See? You Gryffindors jump too fast into duels. Not like us, we wait patiently for the right time, the right conditions.”

“Don’t you think it’s about time for you to stop with the dueling and potion making? I mean really, your House Points could do without you depleting the already languid flow of yellow gems.”

“…Exactly how many cauldrons have you made explode?”

“Failed the Sleeping Draught again?”

“Gryffindor has rubies, Slytherin has emeralds, Ravenclaw has Sapphires. I still don’t know what gems are inside Hufflepuff’s hourglass [in the Great Hall].”

“I read something about that before. It went something along the lines of, ‘Considering Hufflepuff’s usual House Cup performance, it’s filled primarily with air.'” (No offense to the Hufflepuff House. Just me being my usual snarky self with my best friend.)

But then we hit the inevitable dead end, which wasn’t so surprising, seeing as we had been talking to each other for about five hours straight. We seriously don’t know how we stay up on the phone that long with no particular topic. We were silent for a whole three calls — around thirty-six minutes or so — and we did nothing but listen to each other’s breathing and reactions to whatever we were doing at the time. told you my hobbies were weird.

For lack of topics, my best friend and I ventured into the realm of asking hypothetical questions ranging from what we were reading then, to visual novels, and to eroge (yes, my guy best friend is comfortable ennough to discuss eroge with me).

And then, since I was reading a Tom Riddle era fanfic, I decided to ask him a hypothetical question that went something along the lines of, “If you were to fall deeply, madly, obsessively in love with a Dark Lord in the making, a sociopath (I was reading something about sociopaths, The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout) who is not capable of loving, and is very much in every sense, except time and name and gender, like Tom Marvolo Riddle, with the same mass murdering tendencies, what would you do?”

(It was really meant to be a confusing, somewhat run-on statement, and meant to be corrected by the other. Don’t ask. Grammar Nazi giving another Grammar Freak some grief.)

And of course, that led to several more questions.

And a longer discussion.

The conversation has been going on for a good two and a half hours already. And I have several hours’ worth of his fantasies, musings, and suppositions. It would make for good story material.

And, of course, blackmail.

It’s really amazing what boredom can do.