- Chapter Fifty-Five -
"Goodbye, Potter."

SILENCE.

Pure, tense, awkward silence filled with unadulterated loathing. The air felt thick, suffocating. like it's large hands were gripping and grabbing at Sherry's neck and choking her with it's burden and taunt. The sharpest knife couldn't even slice through the tension that had been created within this office, this office that stirred up unbridled rage within Sherry; once a place where she could relax, let loose and feel complete. Now a place where only bad moods loomed and negativity shadowed.

Sherry did everything in her power to avoid being there that Friday night, even going as far as to try and use a charm to stick her feet to the floor. That, unfortunately, did not work as Dumbledore had entered the room, looked at her stuck feet as she smiled sweetly at him before he grabbed a hold of her arm and suddenly she was in his office, angry all over again.

She could've thrown every single thing off of his shelves and smashed all of his glass cabinets but she didn't because she would never again let James Potter see her so vulnerable and that very boy was sat in the chair at the chess table, bag clutched close to him and blue eyes staring in the place where she stood.

Every moment she willed herself not to look at him was every moment where she felt her skin crawl, goosebumps rise and hairs on the back of her neck raise. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she didn't want to talk to him.

Dumbledore had given one of his little speeches about leaving and being back soon before he left, Sherry walked over to her usual comfy chair and collapsed onto it, tucking her legs up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Maybe she could sleep for the whole two hours, feel them go by quickly where she wouldn't have to acknowledge the fact where she was only a couple of feet away from Potter.

Her brain didn't grant her the luxury of sleep that evening. It decided to think, long and hard, about Potter and his actions and his face and his words and his apologies. Ones that Sherry would not accept. She spent at least half an hour with her mind whirring around in endless circled of It was Sirius, he apologised, it was Sirius, but he did nothing to stop him, it was Sirius, and Potter apologised, it was Sirius, but he let it happen.

Again and again and again the prospect of forgiveness was lost on her. Does he deserve it? No. Does Sherry want to give it to him? Not necessarily. If she forgives him, will it fill a hole in her shattered heart? Possibly. Does she miss their hateful banter? Absolutely. Sherry just stared, confused and tortured, at the missing square in Dumbledore's window. Still there, still a reminder of what used to be.

"Sherry?"

She closed her eyes, peace interrupted. The tears in her eyes weren't even noticeable until she accidentally squeezed one out of her eyes when she had shut them. Hurriedly, she wiped it away. Potter seeing that would've ended her, the pity in his eyes, the apology that would come, the endless words out of his mouth, she didn't think she was in the mood for it.

"Sherry, can we talk?" He asked quietly, she glanced in his general direction but didn't see him as only the back of her head was facing him. Sherry simply adjusted her position and said nothing, licking her lips to relieve them of their sudden dryness.

He took in a small breath and the chair squeaked, for a terrifying moment Sherry thought he was going to approach her and see the wetness in her eyes. Even worse, see the longing for their casual conversation; she didn't know why she wanted it, maybe a little taste of normality after a whole 2 months of heartbreak with no time for rest. She planned to ignore the boy, for worse or for better.

In some small way, she was glad he wanted to talk to her. A very very tiny way. An army of feelings was waging war against the rational part of her brain and all she felt like doing was pulling her hair out and screaming and stamping. Her mother taught her to never give anyone the satisfaction, but what did her mother know? And why should Sherry listen to her anymore.

Feelings, knowledge, feelings, quotes, attacking her all at once. She felt like gasping for air, trying to reach a surface she wasn't submerged under, she felt like resting her head on her knees and rocking backwards and forwards until she gathered enough force to travel back in time in some kind of scientific paradox.

Forgiveness allows you to move forward wholly. But forgetting will keep you in a cycle of now and never enable you to evolve. Sherry didn't want to forget it, she wanted to remember what had happened to her, how strong she had gotten, the relationships she had lost. She didn't want to sit around and wait years until it was just a distant memory. She wanted to move on. Be normal, be whole.

But fuck Potter for making it so damn hard.

"Sherry, I-"

"I forgive you."

The sudden dryness of her mouth was shocking. She had cut him off, sent him into silence and her eyes stayed trained to the missing square. Haunting her. Yelling at her to stop because it wasn't possible for them to be civil, because everything they did ended in an argument. Cheering her on because it could finally be normal again.

Sherry hurt. Everywhere. But her heart settled it's ache, slowed its beating just a bit as Potter's breaths filled the room, deep and shocked. She didn't want to turn around, she didn't want to face him, hearing his voice was enough. The sincerity, the relief.

"Y-You forgive me?" Potter stuttered, breathless, amazed. Almost happy. The sound of a smile forming on his face and Sherry clenched her jaw, squeezing her eyes shut once more as he kept on talking. "I don't know what to say. I guess I- I wasn't quite expecting that. Don't get me wrong like I'm glad, really, really glad, y'know but uh...now maybe we can play chess?"

He chuckled. It was light-hearted. It was fast. Too fast. Never give anyone the satisfaction.

"I forgive you." Sherry said quickly and she gathered up both the energy and the courage to turn herself around, look him right in his bright, beautiful eyes that she felt ashamed of herself for admiring at that point in time; he had broken out into a wide smile. "But that does not mean I want to talk to you."

His face faltered, eyebrows furrowed and Sherry wanted to turn back around, to forget that this heartbroken face was ever in front of her. When did her life become so difficult. His mouth opened, closed, he gaped like a fish. Sherry glanced away, glanced back, gulped and attempted a small, extremely awkward smile towards him.

"What?" He asked quietly, straightening his posture. "Isn't that like the whole point of forgiveness?"

"No." Sherry mumbled, shaking her head and Potter stared at her, frowning like she was. Both of them almost on the verge of tears, which seemed absolutely ridiculous. Sherry was sick of everything, so stressed and nauseous. She didn't know why Potter looked so upset but he did. "I don't talk to a lot of people but that doesn't mean I'm angry at them."

"It's different with me though." He said and Sherry inhaled sharply, she just shouldn't have opened her mouth. She thought he'd be grateful, instead he looked almost angry. "Cause we do talk to each other and you do have a reason to be angry with me and I know I've said it so many times but I'm so sorry-"

Sherry breathed in and turned around, leaning her head forward and putting her head in her hands out of frustration, that was the worst idea ever. She hit her hand against her forehead, drowning out the sounds of Potter apologising again behind her...her life was such a shithole.

"I told you in the summer that I didn't want to talk to you again-"

"But, Sherry, I want to talk to you." He said desperately, standing from his chair and Sherry felt it, heard the legs scrape against the floor. She sighed and turned her head, staring up at his tall frame as he started to pace around the office. "It's killing me, not being apart of your life. And I know you need time and I wanted at the least to help you forgive me and start to talk to me again but knowing that you don't want to talk to me, it-it tears me apart, turns me inside out and- and please just let me help you-"

"Help me?" Sherry looked up at him hopelessly, whispered hoarsely and incredulously toward him as he looked down at her with pinched eyebrows and a slightly open mouth. "You can't help me. You're part of the reason I'm like this," Potter scoffed almost painfully.

"We went over this in the summer. I don't fucking need you! I don't need anyone. I just want to erase the last year of my life and go back to America. I don't understand why you're so invested in me, in my life, what I do and who I speak to. We were barely even friends, I don't understand why you want to know every detail of my life and my feelings-"

"- because I fucking love you!" He yelled, words echoing across the office and Sherry was silenced immediately, still in her seat as she looked up at this boy in front of her. "Okay?! My every thought, every waking moment is consumed by you. You are the bane of my existence and at the same time, the object of every single one of my desires. I'm sorry but I do, I love you and I've loved you ever since you smiled at me...looked at me, even. And I...I have no idea what to do about it."

Shattered. Unraveled. Ignited. Broken. Seconds passed between them in silence, maybe even minutes. Thuds of her heart, screams in her brain, punches on her head, crawling on her skin, tingling across her neck, a poisonous swarm of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She could be sick, she could throw up all over him, all of this office, all over herself. Thousands and thousand of emotions on her at once like a tidal wave.

She felt enlightened, damaged, torn apart and fixed back together only to be thrown back to the ground. Her heart could've beaten out of her chest and killed her once and for all, and she gladly would've taken the escape from the conversation. Rewind time, fast forward? Pause it all, have time to collect her thoughts, time that was quickly running out the longer they stared at one another in silence.

Potter looked remorseful, shocked with himself. He also looked angry, at himself or at her Sherry didn't know. His chest rose and fell, she could hear his breath huffing and puffing and he could probably hear her. Love confessions like this in the movies were always tense, they would pull each other into kisses afterwards, begin a blossoming relationship and be together forever.

Sherry couldn't even think of crossing the room and kissing him in that moment, if it was in different circumstances it may have happened, she may have chased after him and pulled him down to her height, pressing her lips flush against his. But she didn't. She just froze and stared at his eyes and the emotions crumbling inside of them.

"I hate myself for everything I did to you." He broke the silence with a whisper, gulping nervously and Sherry let her mouth fall agape. She shook her head at him only slightly, biting her lip nervously. "You're not gonna say anything?"

"Wh-What do you want me to say?" Sherry asked him, moving her hands to connect with each other, fiddling with her fingers. She feared if she stood then her legs would turn to jelly and she'd faint on the spot, so she kept herself on the seat and had to fight to keep looking at Potter.

Potter stared at her for a moment and then shrugged smally, looking away. Shock to sadness, sadness to anger. Sherry furrowed her eyebrows and twisted her face into a slight grimace, looking intently at the boy who glanced back to her almost sheepishly before shaking his head and muttering a small incoherent word.

"You want me to tell you that I love you back?" She asked him and his jaw ticked before he glanced over to her and took a sharp breath in. But Sherry was angry and angry Sherry did not calm down very quickly. "Yeah? Well, I can't. I'm not going to lie."

"You don't love me?"

"No!" Sherry exclaimed in disbelief, looking wide-eyed to the floor below her before looking back up and shaking her head at the upset on his face; she had no idea where he was expecting this to go but this probably wasn't it. "No, I don't. I...I apologise if that's not what you want to hear but I mean, you have to look at things from my perspective! We hated each other from the very moment we met and...and look around!"

She gestured to the office around her and Potter even glanced around himself despite probably knowing the layout of this place off by heart from the amount of times he'd had to divert his gaze from the girl before him.

"We're in therapy because we can't stand the sight of each other. Now you tell me you love me and expect me to say it back?" She asked breathlessly, sitting up on her knees and barely beginning to believe she and him were having this conversation right now. "Well, I can't and you can't be mad at me because you have no right. I'm sorry, Potter, I am...maybe in some other life I would've loved you too but right now I just...I don't."

Potter looked down at the floor, his breathing shaky and Sherry slowly stood up. She was right, her legs were basically jelly but she managed to keep herself up as she hesitantly approached Potter. She was hot and sweaty and felt like she would melt into a puddle at any second.

He was embarrassed, his cheeks a flaming red and tears glassing over his eyes. Sherry felt horrible, but she wasn't going to lie. Today was officially too much for her and Potter seemed to know it, he looked resentful and Sherry felt horrible, absolutely horrible. Sick, nauseous and anxious. Her heart felt heavy, weighed down with emotion.

"I'm going to leave." She mumbled, feeling it would be inappropriate to talk any louder to him when they were now quite close to one another. "And I'm going to tell Dumbledore we don't need these meetings anymore. Because I don't hate you. I did, definitely, but now I just hate your actions, how you stood there and let it all happen. But the truth makes you slightly less hateable...I'm just not quite comfortable."

She felt her throat closing up, blocking some of her speech. Her face screwing up slightly, eyes becoming slightly slightly blurry and her lip trembled the smallest bit. He still wasn't looking at her, staring at the floor but he was red and he sniffled quietly and Sherry stood before him feeling all of her emotions about to pour out of her in a river of tears.

"Goodbye, Potter." She whispered, a hitch in her voice before she moved to walk past him, towards the door. A tear fell and she didn't bother to wipe it away this time, she let it travel down her cheek as she reached the door and tried the doorknob.

It opened easily. It had been open all this time. They could've left. They always could've left, but they never did. Sherry paused at the open door and looked around the office with her blurry stinging eyes, tons of memories in one room that Sherry never wanted to see again. Lock them away forever, never enter this room again. Potter stood in the middle, frozen in place and she chewed on her bottom lip before she turned away slightly...ready to leave.

"So that's it?" His voice rang out and Sherry turned again, breath catching at the sight of his red face, his broken, crying face. "This is just done?"

"What is this?" She asked him, sniffling and shrugging her shoulders. If you'd have told her this time last year that she would be crying over a love confession of James Potter then she would've told you you were stupid, swore at you and walked away.

Now it didn't seem so crazy.

"This was Dumbledore trying to stop duelling in the halls." She said, smiling sadly at him and his red nose as well as his red-rimmed eyes. "I'll apologise a thousand times, but I am not going to fake my feelings. It'd be unfair on the both of us. You deserve someone better than me. Go back to chasing Evans, she's an amazing girl. You're an amazing boy and-" Her breath caught again. "And um...you deserve to be happy as long as you don't make the same mistakes. Bye, Potter."

She walked off before he could say another word, steps getting father the further she went until her legs were carrying her quickly down the halls and sobs were wracking her body, her mouth clamped to her face to keep it in. She wasn't successful.

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A/N: pain, pain, pain. also peep the anthony bridgerton quote