CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.
HELPING HANDS

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            Her eyes skidded across the library where she saw the girl. The girl she called her friend – still calls her friend – for so long, sitting there with her brother and his friends. She remembered the times when they used to hate them, all of them, call them names and complain about how they thought themselves better because their IQ was higher. Those little talks, the laughs and times on their beds, trading answers for questions now gone. It was all her fault, she was the one who caused this divide. There was no one to blame but Amandla Fitzgerald, so she blamed herself.

         A frown found her face as she looked with sad eyes at the sight. Cevira seemed so out of place sitting there, and certainly didn't look comfortable either. The boys were talking, her brother was talking, engaging in conversation and so effortlessly jotting down answers as Amandla saw the struggle that Cevira was trying to mask away. She sighed, looking down as Corey, who sat in front of her, looked over to see the girl as well.

         Cevira looked so alone over there, and Corey felt that guilt weighing on his soul as well. He had left her, left her and Amandla and everyone else in the dark. He fucked everything up because he thought it was better, but being alone is never better. He never wanted to hurt anyone, the reason why he turned away in the start, but he saw that his distance hurt them even more than death ever could...

         And now Cevira was alone. She was alone because he left her and then she turned against Amandla for all the secrets that seemed to loom around the girl, but you couldn't blame Cevira. She just wanted that same relation with Amandla, wanted to be told everything that troubled the girl, but she wasn't. Amandla turned away, kept all these secrets, and that hurt the girl. She couldn't stand the lies and the way Amandla looked and when she asked, it was always the same cold response of I'm fine.

         "What happened between you two?" Corey could sense the divide, but he hadn't a clue of what actually happened.

         "I hurt her," Amandla couldn't look at him, ashamed that she had hurt her friend, ashamed that she hurt everyone she ever cared for.

         Corey sighed, asking the better question, "How did you hurt her?"

         "I couldn't...I didn't...I never told her anything because I thought it was better," Amandla rushed out, "I wasn't sure if this would go anywhere, if we would keep talking...so I didn't tell her. And I just, I just never told her anything and now it's coming to bite me in the ass."

         "I never meant to get between you two," Corey bowed his head, it was all his fault, wasn't it?

         Amandla looked at him, "You didn't do anything, Corey, it was all me. I hurt her and now...now she'll barely say a word to me. And all I want to do is talk to her, say something, because I really need to talk to her."

         "I know that I'm not Cevira, but you can always talk to me," Corey offered, not knowing what else to say.

         She nodded, "Thanks, but...I'm not sure what you'll say, or even if I should tell you. Cevira, I always know her response, but never yours. Never anyone else's."

         "Isn't not telling anyone what got you in this mess in the first place?"

         The Fitzgerald girl bit her lip and nodded, admitting, "Yeah, but I don't think this is even the place. Anyone could hear us."

         "Is it really that bad?" Corey asked, feeling quite hesitant to even ask the question because, in the time they were in, it could be. Especially with Amandla's unique position.

         "No, not really, but the outcome is," well that definitely did not help his apprehension. She stood up, closing her book and saying, "Come on."

         Of course, after analyzing the situation quickly and deciding whether or not following would be a good option, Corey stood up as well. He always prided himself on making good decisions, but his pride had diminished that year since, well, he's been making all the wrong decisions and had all these mistakes piling up.

         She led them out of the library and into an empty corridor near the Hufflepuff basement. Thank Merlin that they both had a free period and then it was lunch, and thank him again that nobody really goes to the common rooms during free periods either. Still, Amandla looked around to see if anyone was there or would come near them before looking at Corey and feeling utterly ashamed. She hadn't told anyone about what had happened, hadn't said a word about her latest endeavors – one that would most likely happen again.

         "I sleep with Hermione," she whispered, biting her lip and looking fearfully at him.

         "What?" he sputtered out loudly, causing Amandla to come close to him and enclose his mouth with her hand and telling him to shut up before letting him go. "You – you sleep with Hermione? Hermione Granger? The same Hermione you've fancied for years now?"

         She nodded, feeling quite ashamed to tell him the later parts of the story. It was terrible, truly terrible yet she didn't feel that way. With Pansy...she felt almost alive. She forgot everything and she was with someone who wanted her just as much as she wanted them. It was nice, but it wasn't real. She saw Pansy in the Great Hall, eyes always trailing after Draco. And she saw herself; someone who just wanted to forget the pain caused by someone else. By a lot of someone elses. None of it was real, it was all fabricated by the moonlight and some alcohol in her veins. The way they pleaded for each other...but it wasn't real. It would never be real.

         "When was this?" Corey asked incredulously, eyes wide with surprise at the information he had just received from his friend.

         "A week or so," the day everything fell apart. That was the name of the day now. Because she lost Cevira and then she lost Hermione because the girl was crying and all she wanted was to be loved by the girl. It was a day of ruins.

         "And – and what's happened since then?" he seemed so calm, almost. Almost. He almost looked calm, but she knew he wasn't.

         "I slept with Pansy," she answered, feeling even more ashamed in herself. She was throwing herself away, but at the same time she couldn't find it in herself to care. That was why she felt so shameful in her actions; she should've been keeping them a dirty little secret, such sinful acts. But it...it didn't feel that way.

         "Parkinson?" she nodded, "Since when are you two friends?"

         Amandla didn't mind the slight disgust in his voice, it would be the same for her if they were in last year. Last year, she could've never imagined herself talking to Pansy and having the short conversations they had. She couldn't imagine that Pansy would even consider speaking to her of all people. But she had, and everything else had happened – it would continue to happen.

         "We aren't...not really," Amandla answered truthfully, "But a lot has happened since last year, Corey, and she just...well, it all just seemed to happen."

         "And is it still happening?" Corey asked her carefully, stepping closer.

         "It's continuing, yes, but I just don't know what to do! Hermione hates me now, Corey! I-I slept with her and she likes Ron and it was just so foolish of me to actually allow her to lead me to her bed!" Amandla said, "I feel like a fool."

         "What did Hermione say exactly, Amandla?" Corey asked calmly, seeing the tears in his friend's eyes and how vulnerable everything seemed.

         "She said, she said she was confused and that I cleared things up...or something like that. But it doesn't even matter – I let her, I let her use me," Amandla cried, reaching out and pulling Corey closer to her and leaning her head against his chest.

         Corey didn't say anything as he wrapped his arms around the crying girl, just holding her close and rocking them slightly. He could hear a small sob escape her lips and he tightened his grip. It hurt to see the girl like this, to see her crying and he couldn't help but think that maybe he would cause this pain to her. When everything happened, when they finally got to him, would she cry like this? Over him? He didn't like those thoughts, he didn't want her to cry, so he held her close and tried not to let his own tears fall. It wasn't the time anyways.

         "Hey, hey...it's alright," he weakly attempted to smile, "I've got something to take all this off your mind if you'd like."

         With her head muffled in his shirt, a small, "What?" was emitted and he smiled.

         "How would you like to accompany me at Slughorn's Christmas party?" he asked, hoping that maybe this would bring her joy, or just a simple distraction.

         She stepped away from him, wiping her eyes and asking in a small voice, "Will Hermione be there?"

         "I'd imagine so," he then added quickly, "but we don't have to see her at any part of the night. It'll be fun, just the two of us. And hey, I heard that Harry's taking Luna, so we can hang out with her."

         Amandla nodded at that, maybe this would be nice. Maybe this was the type of distraction she needed, not just some false hope that maybe someone would care for her one day.

―

         Copernicus Lovegood held the letter in his hand that came from his father. It had been dropped off that morning in the Great Hall, landing right in front of him, but no one had noticed. They never did anymore, his table had learned to accept that Corey was no longer the happy person he was just last year. And it hadn't bothered him the slightest, except one person did notice. He was sitting with his sister, who he was previously estranged from, surrounded by his posy of the other Know-It-Alls. But, somehow, he was looking at Corey and he had noticed the letter that arrived just for the blond boy.

         He hadn't opened it, not there. The anger from the words written quickly by his father would only bring attention to him – the opposite of what the boy wanted. So he waited. He waited until the day was over, feeling tired from all he had learned. Feeling the weight of Amandla's problems on his shoulders but it didn't matter, as long as they were off hers – as long as she could rest again, or rest easier than before. If that were the truth, then he would take all her problems. It wasn't like it would burden him for too long. They would catch him after the school, he wouldn't be able to evade them all summer unless he ran. But Corey didn't feel like running.

         But he waited until the day was over and he was the only one in the Ravenclaw common room, seeing the time he wasn't surprised. Only five minutes before, a dozen people were in there, finishing the last of their conversations before disappearing up the stairs. Then he was the last one in there, or so he thought, and he opened the letter.

         My dearest son,

         I am so sorry about all your troubles. I never meant for any of this to happen. I closed down the newspaper, hopefully that will help.

         Love,

         Your father

         Corey almost snarled at the sight of it. He hated it, he hated everything about it. His father's handwriting was rushed, as if he were running out of time, but he wasn't. Corey was running out of time, his father had had enough. And closing the newspaper...no, it wouldn't help. The damage had already been done. He had already pushed people away, hurt them, to save them from the sorrow of when he truly left...

         He stood up from the couch, going to the dimly lit fire and throwing the letter in there without another thought. He hated everything, hated his father. If he hadn't help them, if he hadn't gone against them, maybe it would be different. Maybe he wouldn't be in danger. But he was, there was no changing that now.

         "You okay, Corey?" he hated that too. He hated that question and he hated who it came from.

         The Lovegood boy turned to see Caesar Stature standing there, concern in his eyes showing how sincere he was about the question. It was that same look he saw in Cevira and he hated it. Hated how similar they were yet so different. Hated everything about it.

         "Fine," he answered briskly, hoping to move past the boy and forget the conversation – forget the letter.

         Though, Caesar wasn't going to let that happen, "You just burned a letter and you say that you're fine. What's wrong? Who was it from?"

         "My father," he said, "but it doesn't matter, nothing's wrong. The letter doesn't mean anything and I won't be responding to it, so why should I keep it?"

         "Cor..."

         "Just drop it, alright? It's none of your business anyways, so why do you care?" his tone was harsh as he snapped at the boy, probably harsher than Corey meant.

         "It is my business. This – your attitude hurts my sister and she's my business, which makes you my business."

         "Since when do you care about Cevira?" Corey spat, "She used to come crying to Amy and I talking about how cruel you were to her. She used to write about how she wished you were nicer or loved her. Like you did before. So since when do you care?"

         "Since I learned how easy it was for Amandla to almost die," Caesar said, "Since I learned that my sister could've died that night thinking that I hated her guts and would be happier without a twin. That was when I started to care."

         "I cared for them before you ever did, you just admitted that. And yet you're trying to paint me as the criminal," in a better mindset, Corey knew he wouldn't have said that, but he was too blind by rage.

         "If you care for them – anyone, really, for that matter – then why are you pushing them away? You're only hurting them?"

         Guilt of his actions flashed in Corey's eyes, "I-I think I was doing best by them, that it would be easier for them later."

         "Well, it's not," Caesar snapped before sighing, looking at the boy with apologetic eyes, "Look, I know why you thought it would be best, but please...Cevira's hurting. She doesn't know if she can trust you anymore and she really wants to trust you, she's just hurt. Don't push anyone else away."

         "You don't know anything, Caesar."

         "I do!"

         "You were never supposed to find out – no one was, but you still don't know," Corey's voice was tremoring, deep with a demand to be listened to, "You don't understand so don't you care try and lecture me on what's right and what's wrong."

         Caesar nodded, "I just want to help, Corey. Why won't you let me help?"

         "Because then you might miss me when I die."

―

         The cigarette was placed neatly between her fingers as she blew out the smoke, sitting on the edge of the bed without a piece of clothing on her body as the Slytherin girl watched her in awe. It was a beautiful sight; her hair disheveled with blown eyes and a mark on her neck from the event that had occurred only about thirty minutes prior. It was beautiful, but it could never hold the same beauty as Hermione did that morning. No, she can't think of that.

         "I didn't know you were a smoker," Pansy spoke, a smirk on her face, reaching out her hand as if motioning for the cigarette to be handed to her, something which Amandla did.

         "Corey gave me a pack," Amandla looked amused as Pansy took her first ever smoke, grimacing at the lung filling her lungs. She chuckled, "Gross, right? You'll get used to it."

         "Ew, I don't see why muggles like this. It's disgusting," Pansy shook her head, giving the cigarette back to Amandla who brought it to her lips again then blew out the precious smoke. "But it does make you seem like quite the badass," the girl added in an afterthought.

         Amandla smirked, capturing Pansy's lips with her own for a small peck. "Thanks, love, I'll keep that in mind for later."

         "Who said there would be a later?" Pansy asked, smirk still present on her face, "Kidding. What are you doing Friday? Might just want to spend the whole night together, just the two of us."

         "I would, but I promised Corey I would be his date for the party Slughorn is holding," Amandla said as Pansy gave a small pout.

         "But we could've spent the whole night close," the Parkinson girl brought her hand to Amandla's arm, tugging her back onto the bed, "Without any room to breathe...and marks on our skin," she nipped at Amandla's shoulder, "But, I guess not. You can't skip out on Corey."

         The Fitzgerald girl let out a shaky breath, "You can't just do that to me, Pansy."

         The other girl batted her eyes and gave an innocent look, "Do what?"

         Amandla groaned and connected their lips again, getting on top of Pansy again, "Or, you could join me at the party."

         "How? I'm not a part of the club and neither are you. You're just a date..." Pansy trailed off, not knowing how this would even work.

         "Yeah, but Theo's in Slug Club, right?" Pansy nodded, "See if you could be his date."

         She shook her head, "Theo's already taking someone else, that won't work."

         "Well," Amandla gave a mischievous grin, "Who is this date you speak of? They might not be feeling all too well to attend..."

         Pansy gave an intake from surprise, "You would harm Daphne? Who are you and what have you done with Amandla Fitzgerald?"

         She shrugged, "I might not harm the girl, but she might be feeling up to a party. You never know."

         "You really are a badass," Pansy smiled, groping Amandla's ass and kissing her, both of them feeling quite content with each other. It wasn't real, they both knew that, both pining and wishing that these moments were spent with another person they could've have. But in that moment they had each other, and that was enough.

im emo because it's so clear that caesar loves corey and he doesn't even notice like —