Cutting the Ties ((Mack))

[Samantha Driscoll]

Before the window of the hair-dresser she stood, and in her mind it was as if she was standing with a foot inside the shop and the ties had been cut, and the other foot was somewhere in her past, shadows and whispers in her ears and eyes and mind, nagging at her, filling her with doubts and fears that were always with her. Was she ready for a new life? Could she leave the past behind and re-invent herself and her dreams? How much of the past was still in her, how much would it affect her future decisions, were 17 years really only 17 years, a life she could truly say she had not been meant to live and now live the one were she made the decisions and accepted all the consequences? Could she finally the cut the ties?

Samantha did as her Healer had instructed her and closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before opening them again. The anxiety attack she feared mercifully did not come. In a smooth fluid motion Samantha pulled out the long stick that had held her hair in its place and it cascaded down her shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked at the hazy reflection of herself in the glass. This wasn’t healthy. She hadn’t cared for her hair at all, and the ends were frayed and it was weak and dull – it was a reminder of times best forgotten. Samantha was ready to go in, ready to shed away the burden she had carried for long enough, ready to do something that – yes indeed – she deserved to do for herself.

She felt the person behind her before she heard her and turned with a blush. Samantha had been too absorbed in herself to pay any attention to whether anyone had come here too. If she had been standing there watching for a while then Samantha should say something in the way of an explanation rather than leave the girl wondering about Samantha’s strange behaviour. “I was thinking – I mean I’ve decided – to cut my hair short. It’s just been this way for a while and it was a bit of a hard decision for me,” she said. She almost went in right then but then remembered that it was common courtesy to wait for the girl to make a reply if she wished.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack needed a change, a big change, one that would shock those who knew her best. What that change was, Mack wasn’t so sure. Sighing as she walked through the village of Hogsmeade, the world was dark gray. She wore a pair of Kris’ sunglasses over her blue eyes. She would never admit it, but she missed Kris. She missed him a lot. Mack crossed her arms as she continued to walk along the shops. What kind of change? Surely nothing too drastic, maybe something she’s done before, something that had shocked them. The wind blew by and pushed her red hair into her face. Sputtering, Mack tucked it behind her ear and that’s when it hit her. She pulled her hair from over her shoulder and looked at it. Perfect. Mack looked around and then spotted the hair place. Crossing the street quickly, she made her way to the salon. There was only a girl there. One Mack knew to be Samantha Driscoll. Mack knew only vaguely what had happened with her, she knew only what she had heard from the gossip mongers. By now, Mack knew not to believe every rumor she heard while at Hogwarts.

She hadn’t realized she was standing there until Samantha said something. Mack shook her head and came back to life. She offered a small smile and then shrugged her shoulders while looking at her own reflection in the glass. “I know the feeling.” She told her as she looked at her red hair with criticizing eyes. It fell near her waist and had started to fade into an orangish colour. It had also started to curl. “My hair’s been red for years and years, and I’ve decided to change it back to its normal colour. It’s going to be a shock seeing it blonde after all these years.” With one more tuck on a lock of her hair, Mack turned to Samantha. “I suppose it will be an unforgettable experience for the both of us. Shall we go in?” Mack tilted her head slightly in question and waited for a reply. Before she could get an answer, she opened the door and stepped in, continuing to hold it open. She waited patiently for Samantha to come in. She knew the girl might just choose to turn around and head home. Nonetheless, she waited.

[Samantha Driscoll]

Samantha raised her eyebrow. Do you? Samantha gave herself a little inward shake. She was going to have thinking that no-one at all understood how she felt – even if they didn’t, not letting them in made things ten times worse. The girl had hair that was much longer and thicker than Samantha's had ever been, and as Samantha looked at her she realised she knew this girl. But she didn’t know her well – because Mack – as Samantha now remembered her name was – had in some ways been an outcast – at least from a Slytherin's perspective, and especially so in Samantha's case since the Queens had always held Dixie Holden, Mack's sister, in high esteem. Samantha had never spoken to Dixie nor to Mack, she had simply behaved as the other Queens had and as was expected of her. She found herself wondering if Mack would've talked to Samantha had she known the opinion Samantha had had of her before today. She almost squirmed, it was too much trying to think of something like that and at the same time work up the courage to go into the shop and cut her hair.

Samantha had never paid much attention to people before; they had been beneath her, something she had to endure on her journey to brilliance. It had almost dehumanised her – but after seventeen years, the wake-up call had come.
Samantha wondered if she should give Mack her name and decided against it. The girl knew who she was and Sam knew who Mack was, and they probably knew all the wrong things, but they were talking anyway. And Samantha found another question popping into her head that she allowed herself to voice as she nodded and walked into the shop. "Any – any – particular reason why you decided to do that?" she asked. She wondered if it was too personal a question. She didn’t allow herself to register anything about the shop as she stood inside it and that was by just focusing on Mack for now.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack held open the door and continued to watch Sam, when the older girl stepped inside, Mack let the door close behind them and pondered the answer to the question Sam had posed. She took a seat in the little waiting area and pulled a book onto her lap before shrugging and replying, “Change can be good. Sometimes people need to change how they look in order to change how they feel. When I was going through my rebellious stage, I dyed my hair red, now I’m going back to being me and that me is with blonde hair.” She handed the book to Sam, already knowing what she wanted done with her hair. “Ever felt like you are someone else completely and you just give up on how you look? That’s how I got after awhile, and then something woke me up to know that I’m not going to be able to be myself again if I don’t look like myself.” Mack smiled softly at Sam and slouched down in her seat, her hands in her jacket pockets as she watched Sam with curiosity.

“How about you? Why the change?” She wondered if it was for the same reason she was dying her hair. She knew that Sam had been through a lot, and Mack had been through a lot too although nearly not as much as Sam had been through. Mack knew the world was full of horrible things, but she also knew there was more than what she had experienced. “I think this haircut,” Mack said as she stood and pointed to a picture on the cover of the book, “would look really good. It’s not too short but it’s not too long either. Plus it would add shape to your face, not that it’s shapeless.”

[Samantha Driscoll]

For a moment Samantha surveyed the scene before her, that was how she had always labelled it in her head, a scene. She was only an actress playing her part, only the part had been the role of her life, it had been seventeen long years and now Samantha was ready, ready to no longer watch her life from the sidelines, a life of having all her decisions made for her and like a puppet she’d just gone through the motions, but where had her heart and mind been in all that she done? Could she find that out now?

She looked at the young women before her, dying their hair, cutting it, getting a perm, styling it in all the different ways. And then her eyes fell on her own reflection. And for once Samantha didn’t see scared or unfeeling eyes stare back at her. She was seeing something she didn’t recognise but after a few moments of thought after a plan was formulated in her head she realised what it was: resolution. For in the reflection she’d seen beyond the frayed ends and the unhealthy hair and beyond even Mack’s ideas though she agreed with her on one thing: she needed shorter hair. She tilted her head to one side. “I think I will go for that, I won’t have it looking so symmetrical though,” she said. She was actually giving the matter a lot of thought; because in her head this was the first real haircut of her life. “People make fun of blondes, most of them can’t pull it off once they try it,” she said knowingly. It was one thing she’d always liked about herself Samantha decided as she thought about it.

“I’m changing because of exactly what you said right now,” said Samantha. And then she smiled broadly and said nothing but it showed in her eyes: You took the words out of my mouth. She said the next words because Mack had managed to make the situation a little more real and less overwhelming than it was in Samantha’s head. “Can I tell you something personal?” she asked. “I mean, I know people say they can say anything to their hairdresser, but I never have,” said Samantha. She didn’t think of being a Slytherin. Nor did she think of Mack being a Slytherin. She wasn’t exactly hiding from it, she just wasn’t going to be defined by what most people thought that meant. For now they were just two average teenage girls, and if Samantha let her guard down a bit more, perhaps they would start gabbing about what Samantha had heard girls talk about but had never really participated in: talk about her looks, cute boys, and just little things like that. Although Samantha had never been one to be afraid of anyone’s gaze, or at least very good at pretending she wasn’t she turned her eyes away from Mack now and looked at a hairdresser cut away at a young woman’s hair.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack grinned, “The people who make fun of blondes don’t really understand how bad we might actually have it. Honestly, I’d like to see them go through some of the things I’ve gone through and live to tell the tale.” The words that came from her mouth came without Mack realizing it was happening. She had made a comment like this so many times, that it was so common. She hadn’t been thinking about what she was saying, so she didn’t register that perhaps she might have said something that Sam wouldn’t like to hear. Something that might make her feel a bit… like Mack had been trying to get her story out of her. Which she wasn’t. So, instead of saying anything more on the subject, Mack picked up another book – this one full of hair colours – and looked through it for the right shade of blonde she wanted. She wanted a shade that looked like her natural colour, but the problem with that would be she didn’t know what shade her natural colour had been. Mack looked up from the book and smiled at Sam when she said the reason why she was changing was because of exactly what Mack had just said; sometimes you just need to change how you look to become who you really are.

She looked back down at the book and flipped to the blonde section. There were so many different shades. They all ranged from dark blonde to platinum blonde. Mack knew her colour was somewhere in between there, but she didn’t know where. She flipped to the middle blonde shades and looked at a shade of blonde she thought might work. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded her head and looked around for a free hairdresser. Seeing there wasn’t any, Mack took a seat on one of the chairs and looked over at Sam who had just asked if she could tell Mack something personal. Mack bit her lip a moment and then nodded, “Of course, if you want.” She didn’t know what it was that Sam wanted to share with her, but a part of her knew she shouldn’t take it for granted. Sam had been through a lot, even the most out of the loop person would know that if they cared enough to listen to what had gone on at the school that year, but Mack knew that meant that sharing something personal could be painful and hard.

It was that moment that two hairdressers opened up, and Mack stood from the chair as they approached her and Sam. Mack showed one of them the colour of blonde she wanted her hair to be and explained how she wanted it styled. When they were both settled in salon chairs right beside each other, Mack looked over at Sam with a small but comforting smile.

[Samantha Driscoll]

Samantha raised her eyebrows and said nothing. She wondered what had been going on Mack's life, she knew that she was actually a recording artist now, but she didn’t know what her personal life was like. She'd heard things about the Holdens, but having been lost in her own world trying to get back on her two feet had left her unaware of most of what was going on around her. She was just about to let Mack in on the secret that she felt wanted to get off her chest, but then two chairs emptied up and it was time to get their hair cut. Samantha said nothing but got her thoughts organized, not too frazzled by the fact that it was time to get her hair cut because she was focused on how she was going to tell Mack about not being too comfortable in this situation. When they sat down she saw her reflection again and looked at it, Mack's voice in the back of her mind. It sounded so easy – why had she never doe that before? Just gone for what she wanted. Samantha suddenly noticed the hairdresser standing by her side. She had an assortment of bottled potions in her arms which she set on the table and then smiled at Samantha. Samantha said slowly. "I want it shorter, my hair I mean," she said. "Just how much do you want odd it dear?" asked the hairdresser. "Cut till I stay stop," said Samantha, biting her lip. She looked away from the mirror and the hairdresser, who was whispering incantations. A towel placed itself around Samantha's neck and shoulders, and she felt hair getting wet.

Samantha looked over at Mack, or at least she moved as much as she could without disturbing the ministrations of her hairdresser. She was encouraged by her smile and looked down at her hands then back to her before speaking. "Well, here goes," said Samantha. "I don’t think I've ever had my hair cut the way I wanted," she said. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. It was good to get that out, because to say it meant that Samantha was no longer going to continue with that kind of idiocy. Gone were the days of being a puppet to her parents in her own life, and the days of being a slave to the latest trends and fashions. Samantha's eyes clouded over for a moment, a memory flashing through her mind.

Mum, Mummy, please, I don't like it that way.

Samantha, what did I say about whining? Remember the three C's every girl should always be. Say them and stop that infernal sound. Look at all the girls in here, I don’t see anyone acting so trying. Is this what I get for trying to make you look beautiful? It's not like you don’t need it Samantha.

Calm, collected, and composed, Mother.

Yes. I'm going to try hard and forget about this little episode. What gets into you, I cannot imagine.

Her eyes cleared as the memory faded, replaced by a warm tingling feeling she welcomed and embraced happily inside herself.

Calm, collected, and composed be damned. At least I'm still here and alive. I'm stronger than you ever were Mother.

[Mackenzie Holden]

“Right then, this colour is…”

“Hideous, I know. I want it back to my natural colour, but the problem is I’m not sure which colour of blonde that is.” Mack frowned slightly into the mirror at the hairdresser behind her. The woman laughed and ran her fingers through Mack’s hair.

“No worries, we’ll figure it out. Do you want it cut, too?” Mack nodded, explaining the length and shape she wanted before looking at Sam out of the corner of her eye. Her hair suddenly became very damp and she felt the witch doing her job on her hair. When Sam told her the secret, Mack smiled lightly. She knew how that was. Not being able to choose how you want to look, but she had broken out of her parents’ control way earlier than Sam apparently so she couldn’t completely understand what Sam was going through. In a way, changing your look is taking control of your life, and there were some people who weren’t too sure on how to handle that control. Mack had let it spiral back out of control when she was in her third year, but she had gotten it back into her hands. Now, she lived her life like she wanted to live it with the exception of Hank breathing down her neck every now and then when he was afraid she’d do something stupid that would disgrace his family name.

“So, this is all new to you? The whole process of telling them how you want your hair? What length, the shape, etc?” Mack asked with a curious tone of voice. She was actually very interested in how Sam was responding to the new found sense of control. Mack was always interested in things like that, but she never asked outright, knowing that someone might see that as being nosy and overbearing. Mack didn’t want to be either of those things. As she waited for Sam’s reply, she looked into the mirror at the hairdresser. Already Mack’s hair had the colouring in it and the hairdresser was fiddling with the length. “Do you think it’d be better if it were shorter?” The hairdresser shook her head and said that she was thinking maybe it should be layered. Mack considered it and then nodded, saying she’d like that.

[Samantha Driscoll]

"Yes," said Samantha. She stole a surreptitious glance at Mack, trying to gauge her feelings about that. Did she think Samantha was pathetic? Samantha certainly thought that of herself. She kicked herself mentally and remembered why she was here – to rectify that, and hopefully to care a little less about what people thought. She needed an image of herself that she could live with, then maybe she could start worrying about how people perceived it and whether their opinions were of value or not. She needed to know how to control the reigns of her life, and right now, how about just talk and stop worrying? "I'm learning to do a lot of things on my own now. My parents were rather controlling," she said briefly. The understatement of the year. "But they're both gone now," she said, again not going into details. "I'm exploring a whole lot of different venues, or at least trying to. My brother and best friend Kris suggested I do that," she continued. "It's a little overwhelming, fending for yourself in the real world all on your own. But I bet you've had a taste of that, starting your career so young," She asked conversationally. Samantha didn’t know much about Mack's music but she'd seen her face on a magazine recently.

The hairdresser was looking at Sam's face and mumbling to herself. She brought the scissors to Samantha's hair and Samantha was acutely aware of the action even though she felt nothing. Samantha closed her eyes at the sound of the first cutting, then looked down at the single lock of hair now on the towel. She found herself wishing she'd done this last year, right when she was out of Azkaban, but she'd been a scared out of her wits then, teetering on the verge on insanity. She smiled to herself at the memory of Cathy first finding her, and then her gradual return to real life. It had taken a long time, but at least she was here finally – she was ready for this now, ready to shed the skin of a former life. The pains of the past year were very real to her in this moment, but more than them was the triumphs of the past year, like getting back her concentration and her will and her magical abilities, and the supporting people in her life, Charles, Kris, and even William, though they'd only met once. More hair was falling from her head now, and Samantha focused completely on something inside her that felt warm and somehow liberated.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack kept her eyes on the mirror, watching the hair dresser work her magic, as Sam answered her question. She listened, but her mind wandered as well. It wasn’t until Sam said Kris’ name that Mack looked at Sam out of the corner of her eye, “Kris Graas? You know Kris? Well, I mean, that’s… obvious… considering you two are in the upper years, but… I’m sorry, it’s just, I haven’t spoken to anyone about Kris in awhile. I mean, not even Mary and Mary was like his younger sister.” Mack felt her eyes darken at the thought of Kris. She really did miss him. She was hoping he was doing well, although a part of her was hoping he would come back. She needed him, as pathetic as that sounded. With another glance at Sam, Mack felt guilt. She didn’t need him nearly as much as Sam. “I think it’s good that you’re learning to take control of your life. Even if it is a bit overwhelming, you know? It’s good you’re exploring new things.”

She looked at the mirror again, watching the hair dresser’s every snip of the scissors. After a moment, Mack smiled, “You know, the real world and the music world are two completely different worlds. The real world is scary, but the music world is frightening. You can get eaten alive when you’re in a board room with producers, managers, and their diva like artists. Nothing is worse than going through a four hour meeting, listening to musicians whine and complain about not getting a certain spot on a show or not getting their benefits from a benefit they had just worked.” At least, in Mack’s opinion nothing was worse than that. Then again, there were things that could be worse than that. Mack just hadn’t been through them. She was talking, boring work things, though… not home ordeals that she and Sam had both been through.

[Samantha Driscoll]

Do I know Kris? "Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about him now he's left Hogwarts," said Samantha with a shrug. "I don’t know, but I think I could about Kris any time and to anyone, that's because Kris was my only – I mean my best friend. Not in the sense that we talked about every little thing in our lives or talked day and night about everything and nothing, just in the sense that for some reason despite the fact that I've never really trusted anyone completely I've always trusted Kris. Even though the first time I talked to him it was only because I knew he was rich and his heritage and I'd – well – picked him out as an equal," Samantha had to stop here and laugh, because right now the words sounded incredibly pretentious and in fact even revolting. "What I'm trying to say is that with time what I came to realise was that I could tell Kris anything without hating myself for divulging information or without hating him for knowing something private about me," she said. "Last year, when I first came back to school, he was the first person I let touch me. I guess because he was blind I wasn't afraid to let him see the broken person I was then," she said.

It was a sad memory not too distant but distant enough not to hurt her – the memory of her walking around listlessly in Hogwarts doing practically nothing but just trying to exhaust herself to pass away the days, every night hoping and lying to herself that when she woke up tomorrow she would be brave enough and ready enough to face everyone and everything. She could still remember the cold wet rain falling around them and the warmth of his touch and embrace and the reminiscence brought a small smile to her lips. "He sent me a horse as I present after he left. I haven't yet found anyone to teach me how to ride. But I've talked a lot and haven't stopped to ask you whether you two were friends or if he knew Dixie?" Samantha regretted bringing up Mack's sister but the words couldn't be taken back. But then Mackenzie could choose to ignore it if she wished. She was glad Mackenzie was encouraging her, Samantha needed it, and she didn’t have the false pride issues she might have had once with Mack's few words of support.

"Are you passionate about your music? Have you been singing your whole life?" Samantha asked interestedly. She wished dancing had meant anything to her but in her memory practice was but hours of painstaking efforts and very little emotion. She didn’t think she would ever dance again. "I reckon what I'm trying to ask you is whether it's all worth it," Samantha said, remembering her Healer's advice to be more direct.

[Mackenzie Holden]

Mack shrugged at Sam’s suggestion; “Perhaps; I don’t know. Mary and I haven’t really had a very long and serious conversation. It’s always teasing each other or friendly banter, you know? If you’ve met Mary then you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She smiled softly. Mary loved to test people and it was amusing but sometimes it got to Mack. On days where she just wanted to relax, Mack and Mary could really get into it. But that was expected of two Slytherin teenage girls, wasn’t it? Oh, yes, most definitely. She listened to Sam talk about Kris, about how he was the only one she really trusted and Mack smiled again. “Kris had a very uncanny way of finding ways to get people to trust him. He was the first person I completely trusted, too.” She looked at the older girl out of the corner of her eye a moment before looking at the mirror to see what the witch was doing with her hair. Satisfied with it, Mack relaxed into the seat as the hairdresser continued to work her magic. Sam mentioned Kris giving her a horse and Mack had to stifle a laugh. That was something Kris would do. Talk about a lavish gift. When Sam asked about whether or not she and Kris were friends, or even if he knew Dixie, Mack let out a small sigh.

“Kris was, in a sense, an older brother to me. But not to the point where he was with Mary. I mean, I’m pretty much an independent spirit but he was always someone I knew I could fall back on if I needed to. I was pretty torn up when I found out he was blind. I visited him one night in the hospital wing and he could tell I was really out of my element.” Mack smiled fondly at the memory of that night. It was the night he had offered to break Jack’s bones if he hurt her. That alone had been an amusing thought but the way Kris had said it so calmly just made Mack smile even more. She shrugged as the witch finished her hair and started to style it magically, “As for Dixie…they knew each other, I’ll assume, because they were in the same year. I’m pretty sure, after awhile Kris became someone that Dixie could fall back on, too. But my sister has her own issues.” She rolled her eyes at that, which was an understatement. Dixie had huge issues and Mack wished she’d just get over them. Finally, her hair was done and Mack smiled a thank you at the witch before turning to look at Sam.

She looked at the older girl a moment before saying in a quiet tone of voice, “Anything that makes you happy or relieves stress, is something that is worth it. Singing is my outlet. It’s the way I escape the world I’ve become sucked into. I’m sure once you get into horse back riding, Sam, you’ll know exactly what I mean. You just need that one thing that makes you just…soar above everything. Something that’ll make you see something about yourself that you have never seen before.”