Here We Go Again

Chapter 18: All Hands and Goodbyes

POV: Liam

In remembrance to one of this decade's worst tragedies, the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic has decided to continue to honor the lost lives by...

Why do I read this?

The released statement can be traced back to the previous Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, who's since resigned from his position and left Spinard Emilio De la Cruz as his successor...

Does it do me any good? Of course not. But I can't help it. It's like picking at a scab.

As Head of the department, Mister Potter released a statement of his own shortly after assuring the people of our British society that we were under no threat. Auror Potter and his second in command, Mister Ronald B. Weasley, went on to praise the evolution the department had made under their watch. With this, the people we're eased that two of the greatest war heroes were going to protect them and their children. A month after, the people of the Wizarding World were greatly mistaken...

I know it's going to hurt, I know it's going to reopen, but I can't help it. The scab has to be scratched. How can it not?

This fatality took many lives over these artifacts laced with dark magic, magic capable of destroying our Ministry and reeking havoc once more throughout our peaceful nation...

It's personal. It's my heart, my blood—my everything. I'm willing to hurt again for it.

Adding to the list of our dead from these attacks on members of ancient pureblood families are: Terry Boot, former Ministry Official; Maria Flint, matriarch of the Flint family; Marcus Flint, CEO of Flint Fractions; Alec Greengrass, founder of Greengrass and Harper Firm...

I'm willing to hurt for him, for my father. I'm willing to open the rubbish newspaper that the Daily Prophet is just to reassure myself that I'm still not having a long dream. How could I be? If the date printed on the cover of the newspaper was anything to go by, I knew that it was impossible to sleep for an entire year.

Sometimes, when I remember that he's gone, I really wish I wouldn't wake up. He only comes to me in dreams and dreams are the only place it doesn't hurt to see his face. Pictures don't give his loving essence justice.

"—Lovely day, isn't it?"

Winter was not even close to finishing, but the wind that was blowing through the trees and the grounds of Hogwarts was very calm. It was strange, considering the massive storms that had been going on for the past few days, but somehow it felt right. And even the light thud that came from my left side seemed right; bare legs crossing themselves in that place.

I stared for a moment, the way those crossed legs sunk the blades of grass, and then I blinked away to the mountains over the horizon. They were beautiful, true and worthy of being a part of the Hogwarts landscape.

"Yeah, quite lovely," I mumbled in agreement. Somehow, it wasn't though.

"Are you okay, Liam?"

I turned as a wave of wind wrapped around us, making the black hair of the girl sitting beside me flying around her with freedom. It sent the smell of mangos in the air. "I'm brilliant," I told her.

The girl giggled to herself for a moment, attempting to push her swaying her back to her sides and out of the open space between us. "You were sulking during Herbology," she turned to me now, "and I was curious. Well, curious and worried. You're not one to sulk."

I gave her a crooked smile. "Are you sure you're worried about me or just here to hex me? I did let that Mandrake out of the pot too early. You almost fainted."

"I almost fainted?" With another round of giggles, Gracen Goyle extended a white finger and drilled it into my kneecap. "You're the one that got all wobbly in the legs that you made Professor Longbottom think I cursed you with the Jelly-Legs Jinx."

"I was not wobbly—"

"Harper had to practically carry you outside the greenhouse for a moment to regain your strength," she completed, smirking at me with a gleam.

Folding the newspaper into a square, I put it underneath my extended legs and turned back to the witch. "I don't know what you're on about, Gracen. Nia simply carried me out because she does that sometimes. I'm like a king to her."

Gracen Goyle started laughing loudly, scoffing at the end of it, too. "You've been hanging out with the Weasley/Potter clan too much." She copied my actions and leaned back on the grass against her palms, her fingers almost touching mine. "And you know if Harper heard you say that she'd kill you."

"Kill me good, too," I chuckled, nodding my head.

The smirk that was pulling her pink lips dimmed. "So," she breathed, "are you going to tell this nosy Ravenclaw what has you in such turmoil?"

I looked away from her and towards the mountains.

"Greengrass..."

"It's nothing."

She huffed. "Do I need to beg to get it out of you?"

I didn't say anything and I heard her movements anyway. She was right in front of me, obscuring my vision of what laid outside the grounds of Hogwarts. She knelt before me, grabbing onto my ankles.

"Please, please, please tell me what's wrong with you, Greengrass."

I frowned, reaching over and pulling her up by her arms and into a sitting position and off her knees. "Stop, Goyle."

My hands were retracting from her, but she was fast to hold onto them. She gave them a squeeze, her bright eyes looking sincerely worried into my dark ones. "I read the newspaper today."

"That article Mrs. Potter wrote on the last Chudley Cannon game? I read it too. They're a downright embarrassment to the Quidditch league. I don't know how they still get funding—well, maybe from Mister Weasley. He's determined to have the Cannons win at least one game in his lifetime."

There was still a soft smile on her face but her eyes were still sad. My hand received another gentle tug from hers. "Look, Liam, I know that we're merely frequent acquaintances, but if you ever need anything...I'm here for you."

I looked down at our clasped hands.

"You've done such a beautiful job at moving on from your grief," whispered Gracen, her eyes still boring into my face despite that I stopped looking at hers. "And I'm aware it's been a year since your father's passing, but don't shut down. Don't do that yourself. You're still surrounded by people that care and love you. That matters, your life."

With one hard yank, my hands were free from her hold.

She sighed. "In a year, two years, three years...he'll still be dead, Liam. Time doesn't matter anymore. And I'm positive your father wouldn't want you to be miserable at his memory. Laugh and love like he was still alive."

I watched her as she stood up, dusting the blades of grass off her skirt. Her green eyes scanned my brown ones for a second, looking thoroughly sad. And as she bent to pick up her schoolbag, it was my turn to reach for her hand.

She looked down at my hold for a moment before blinking back at me.

"We're not acquaintances, Gracen; we're more than that," I said to her. "We're friends."

A dazzling smile lit up all of Grace Goyle's pretty face. Her rosy cheeks went a shade of pink darker, green eyes alight with glimmer, and her hand burst out with electricity to shock mine with warmth.

"—Liam?"

Dropping her hand from mine, losing all that spark that had taken over her a second ago, Gracen and I both looked at the redhead that had just appeared beside us. Lily's brown eyes inspected us, her expression serious and unnerving as she focused her attention on the Ravenclaw witch.

"Better be heading to dinner now," Gracen mumbled, clearing her throat lightly as she threw the step over her schoolbag onto her shoulder. "I'll see you two lovebirds later."

Lily raised a fiery brow, her narrow gaze following after the older girl's trail as she headed away from us.

Not really sure why her aura was exploding with hostility, I reached from her dangling hand at her side and tugged at it. "What is it?" I asked as I pulled her down beside me.

"She's shifty, that one," was her response as she adjusted herself next to me. "I've seen her looking at you from across the Great Hall sometimes. I've never paid it much mind, seeing as you two aren't friends, but now..."

My brows knitted together in confusion. But if I was going to comment on that, it was halted when one of Lily's hands pushed against my chest; making me lay completely against the grass. She inched her way closer to me, resting her head on my chest and throwing an arm over my stomach.

I smiled down at her, my fingers weaving automatically into her red hair. Everything bad that there was in the world, anything that could be plaguing me with poison was immediately disregarded as nothing when she was around. Lily was my everything good; the cure to anything.

"You've been hiding from me," she murmured.

I swallowed a knot. "I wanted to be alone."

"I don't want you to be alone." She raised herself up from my chest, her eyes staring deeply into mine. "I want to be there for you, Liam. When you're hurting...I want you to know that you're not alone."

My free hand went to rest at the side of her cheek. "I appreciate that."

"And I love you," she was still whispering like we were in a room full of people, like it was a secret she didn't want anyone but me to know. "I love you, I love you, I love you. Don't seclude yourself when you're hurting. I'm here to make you feel better."

"You are, are you?"

A wicked gleam took up her brown eyes before she swooped down and pressed her lips against mine. It didn't take a fraction of time for our mouths to start moving in that perfect rhythm, in that familiar and loving manner. And when her hand gripped my hair, when my tongue snuck its way inside her mouth, it didn't take a single dubious second for Lily to press her body flush against mine.

The groan that passed my mouth, swallowed by hers, was seriously embarrassing but necessary. The pressure and pain that was surrounding my entire body was intense, and it attempted to feed the rush my blood was giving as it traveled thicker and thicker as Lily's lips continued to move on mine.

Her heart was erratic and her breathing was shaky, I could feel it as I sunk my teeth as gently as I could on the skin from her neck. She copied my action at once. We both were quivering from the thriving emotions inside of us, and the more she pressed her lower regions into mine, the more we shook.

One of her hands sneakily made their way to the button of my trousers. She popped the button open and pulled my tucked shirt out of its place. And once she'd done so, her hand was even more shaky over the skin of my lower abdomen.

Snaking my hands from her waist, I slithered them up her shirt and grabbing a hold of her waist. Her skin was soft and warm, but I didn't stay there long enough. My fingers trailed upwards, passing her ribs and then—Lily moaned against my neck with triumph. It was like she'd been waiting for me to grab a hold of her forever. And maybe she had been. I'd never attempted to put my hands up her shirt before.

With the new barrier that I had crossed, Lily decided that it was time she crossed over one of her own. She moved her hand from my stomach and unzipped the front of my trousers. I gulped and shuddered. She took that as a sign from above to inch her fingertips to the waistband of my boxers.

And just before her hand could make it to its destination, I withdrew my hands from inside her shirt and shoved her off of me with great force.

She landed a few inches away from me, by my feet, and she looked up at me slightly horrified. Her red hair was knotted, tousled, and covering the marks I'd left on her neck. Her horrified expression didn't last, though. It was replaced with fury.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!"

I shook my head, my body still trembling. "We needed to stop," I muttered, reaching down and zipping my trousers once again. (How'd I get so distracted?) "Let's just go to dinner, okay?"

"To hell with dinner!" She didn't stand from the grass. She sunk her nails into the ground, contracting her fingers as she glared at me with all her might. "You pushed me off, Liam! You threw me from you! How do you think that makes me feel? Am I not good at what I do? What is it?! Why do you insist on pushing me away when I want more than just to hold your hand or a peck from you?!"

I cringed at her hissing. "It's not you, Lily," I responded in defense. "Blimey, how can you think that I don't want to...Of course I want to! I'd be stupid and blind if I didn't, look at you! You just don't get it." Merlin, really. How could she even think that? I'm a bloke, for Godric's sake. I want to all the bloody time. But my needs are not a priority over her. And my priority as her boyfriend is to respect her. Respect all of her—even when I want nothing more than to ravish her completely. But she's young. Who am I to take advantage of that?

She recoiled her fingers from the grass, pulling out a patch from its roots, and she flung it at me in her anger. "You don't get it! I want you to touch me, Liam! I want you to stop treating me like I'm five and not sure of what's going on! I bloody well know what I'm doing!"

"No, you don't know what you're doing!" I snapped back. "If you had any sense you'd see that—"

"Oh, grow a pair, Liam!" She interjected. "Be a man and just take me when I—"

"Grow up, Lily!" My frustration reached surprising levels. I never lost my cool. I was always composed and soft-spoken. I didn't get angry and shout. I was the sensible bloke from the group, that one that was always collected. What happened?

She stood from the ground quickly, brown eyes unmoving as she threw them like daggers at me. "I'm tired of listening to your excuses," her hissing venom was back. "I'm tired of you rejecting me time and time again because I'm the Potters' little sister."

"They have nothing to do—"

"They have everything to do with this!" She yelled. "You don't think that I hear the jokes? You don't think that I know what they say about me to you? Well, to hell with them and you! I'm done!"

I couldn't look and feel more horrified than in that moment. "Lily—" My hand went out to reach for hers but she slapped it away.

"I'm done with you."

"...You're breaking up with me?"

She seemed taller than she'd ever been in that second. "Goodbye, Liam."

And she walked away without a look back.