Here We Go Again

Chapter 33: Failed Kisses

POV: Lily and Al

'Daddy?'

'Yes, Lily-pad?"

'Why can't I go to Hogwarts, too? It's not fair that James and Albie get to go and leave me alone.'

Through the reflection of the vanity mirror in the master bedroom of the Potter household, famous emerald eyes found a little redhead girl sat with her arms crossed over her chest on her parents bed. She swung her short legs back and forth, banging the heels of her shoes against the frame of the bed.

'We've gone over this, sweetheart,' her father began, 'you're too young to go to Hogwarts.'

'I am not too young, Daddy!' she protested at the man who attempted to comb his always-messy black hair. ''Sides, Mummy taught me to control my magic. I think Auntie Minerva should let me in! I'm smart!'

The man grinned through his reflection at the little girl. 'I'm sure the Headmistress will be delighted to have you in her school, but now is not the time. You're too young, Lily-pad. You have to wait a few—'

'You just don't want me to go,' the redhead child accused. 'You want me to stay here forever because you're mean, Daddy!'

Her father turned from his wife's vanity to stare calmly at his daughter. 'You're my baby,' he said, 'of course I don't want you to go. You'd break my heart if you did.'

At the tender words the man released, Lily's previous frustration lessened as she jumped off her parents' bed and walked over to her father. 'But I'll come back, Daddy. I promise.' She reached for his big hand and watched her little one disappear when he wrapped his fingers around her fist. 'Kinda like when you go to work and I don't want you to.'

'Yes, but I have to help your Uncle Ron catch bad guys, don't I? That's important. On the other hand, you've got no business abandoning me for Hogwarts, Lily-pad. I'll buy you a castle of your own if you wanted.'

Little Lily rolled her eyes at her father and stomped her left foot. 'Daddy,' she grunted, 'Hogwarts is important for us, that's what you always say. But you don't have to help Uncle Ron. He can catch bad guys by himself.'

The bespectacled man squatted down to by at eye-level with his nine year-old child. 'Let's make a deal.' He extended out his hand that'd been previously holding hers and said, 'If you promise to come back home when it's your time to go to Hogwarts, then I promise to always come back from the Ministry.'

'You've got to come back anyway, Daddy. What would Mummy do if you didn't?'

'That's another deal I have with her. This deal is strictly between you and I.'

Lily humphed as she stared quizzically at her father's extended hand for a moment longer. After thinking it over properly, she extended her little hand to shake her father's. 'Deal! No take-backs!'

Harry grinned at his daughter and pulled her into a hug. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

'Yeah. Yeah. I love you, too,' Lily said as she wiggled out of his arms. She took her father's hand again and she led him out of his bedroom and towards the living room where her mother's shouts of 'James! Leave Al alone! He'll get sorted into whatever bloody house he gets sorted into!' echoed around their home...

Slowly, the memory faded and my eyes opened as my heart surged with pain. Tears automatically traced down my cheeks at my dream, but also as my eyes adjusted to my surroundings and my mind reminded me where I was. I was reminded of what had occurred; of why my heart ached as it did.

I was in St. Mungo's. And Dad had promised. He promised me he'd always come home as whole as he left. He promised.

"Oh, my darling girl." I felt fingers running through my hair caressingly, for comfort, and I blinked upward to find my grandmother's warm gaze on me. My head was rested on her lap as I claimed a bench as my bed and her thighs my pillow.

More tears fell when I saw her. "I'm mad at him, Gran," I whispered, too afraid to speak normally in fear that I'd start sobbing again. "How can he do this to us?"

"You have a right to be mad, Lily. I think we all are mad with him. That's the thing when it comes to Harry Potter," she said with a little scowl of her own, though her worried and saddened eyes lessened the anger, "his family is used to being mad at him for doing things as ridiculous as saving the world. At the same time, how can we be? Harry was trying to save Teddy's life. A parent will always give their own life for their child's."

"But why does it always have to be him?" I demanded. "Why is it always my dad that has to sacrifice his life?" I sat upright, rubbing angrily at the tears that fell. "He should have given up this nonsense of being an Auror when he had us. What kind of person would go out there and risk his life continuously when he has a wife and children to think about? Aren't we important to him?"

My grandmother reached for one of my hands and squeezed it tight with hers. "Listen to me," her voice was a little firm, "that man loves you. He loves you and your brothers with all his heart. And he loves my Ginny with all his soul. Don't you dare accuse him of not loving because everything that boy does is love."

"He isn't loving us from that hospital bed," I accused. "And he won't love of us from his grave, Gran." More tears spilled and I couldn't believe the words that left my mouth. I had forbidden my mind from conjuring that thought, from going to that dark place I was trying to pretend would never be an outcome, but it came out. It came out and I couldn't take them back.

Grandmum Molly's own eyes filled with outraged tears. "Harry is strong," she said gently despite her ire, "and he will make it out fine. Lily, your father is not weak. You're not weak. No one in this family is weak. I know you, sweetheart, and you're just like him. You're strong, determined, and stubborn. Those are the hardest people to knock down."

My right hand went up to my mouth to cover the sobs that were threatening to come out.

Before Gran could say anything, we were both distracted when Teddy's voice rang behind us.

"Leave it, Victoire," he hissed at his wife as he shoved her hands from his face.

"But, Teddy," my blonde cousin and young Healer attempted to reach for her husband again, "your wounds have been open for two days now. They're bound to be infected. And if that gash on your face was done by magic it's going to scar. I need to—"

"I said leave it!" Teddy hissed, standing from his chair and walking away from his wife.

My adoptive-brother marched over to the opposite end of the room where a group of our familiars were huddled around a silent, redhead woman.

"How is she, Hermione?" Teddy asked the brunette who sat beside my mother.

"She's not eating," my aunt replied with a disappointed, parental tone. "I tried but she won't budge. I sent the boys for some food down at the little cafe, so let's hope she finds something appetizing. If not, I'm going to ask Angelina to get her a few potions to support her energy."

They spoke as if Mum wasn't there. But she was there. Mum was sitting right there, breathing right there, blinking right there, but she wasn't bloody moving. Her mind was gone somewhere far. She would only return to us for a few moments and then it was like her voice had never been heard.

"What are you doing here?"

Coming in through the doors of the waiting room, James, Freddie and Louis appeared with their arms full of packaged food. As soon as my blonde cousin's eyes found a certain couple that had appeared while he was off, the anger flashed upon his blue eyes and added unnecessary attention to us.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere in London enjoying my magical trunk? Where is Louis Jr., anyway? Don't tell me Rowle convinced you to abandon him? It wouldn't be the first time he's okay with leaving his child behind."

Dominique inhaled deeply, her palms balling into fists as she narrowed her gaze on her brother. "Do shut up, you complete twat," she hissed. "I'm here to be with the family and give Aunt Ginny all my support. I am in no mood to deal with your rubbish."

"Mate," added in Derrick Rowle as he put a calming hand on his new fiancee's shoulder. Not that the gesture would guarantee anything, because Dominique was easily set off, but the action was greatly appreciated from my part. "This is no place to argue. Dominique and I are just here to be with your family. And if you're so concerned, we left Dustin with his Uncle Rex."

Louis' pale cheeks went red from his anger (he might look like a Delacour, but his rage was definitely all Weasley). "I'm not your mate," he growled. "And who the hell is Rex?"

Rowle tried his hardest to keep his composure, I could tell. "Rex is my brother."

"Oh! That's blood rich! You are already replacing me with this git's—"

"Louis!" Gran rose from her chair, eyes ablaze. "That is enough, do you hear me? If you can't contain yourself and behave your age, then I suggest you go home right this instant."

My blonde cousin pressed his lips into a tight line, his anger still turning him red. He threw the food he brought onto Aunt Hermione's lap and then turn to leave. And as the tension lessened because of his departure, as Dominique turned back to hold my mother's hands and kneel beside her, whispers among us broke out in separate piles.

At the first sign of my gran's departure, who was walking around the waiting room passing food to her relatives, someone who had been there all along, somewhere who had yet talk to me, came up and extended his right hand to me.

"Care for a walk?" asked Liam.

I didn't hesitate to reach for him.

We walked together, hand in hand, for almost twenty minutes. At first we navigated through the corridors of St. Mungo's, but seeing patients at their worst, hearing groans of pain, their crying, and delirious talk from inside the rooms we passed only made everything worse. I never gave much thought to hospitals before, I had a knack for staying out of them considering how overprotective my family is, and it helped that Aunt Angelina is a Healer and so is Victoire, but now I realize I hate them. Hospitals are signs of death. It's the waiting zone between the physical world and the afterlife. Sure, there were chances of salvation within the cold walls of hospitals, but someone still died.

We went to the gardens while gloom followed after us. We took seat around a small table with a vase of magicked flowers. They were roses, white and pink. They smelled like the ones in Mum's garden, sweet and with the memories of frolicking around my house in the summers when I was a child and Dad chasing after me. I could even see him cutting one off every single morning and giving it to Mum. Every day she was surprised...

"You didn't have to be here," I mumbled as I looked away from the flowers to stop remembering my father and everything magnificent that he is. "You should be enjoying your Easter holiday."

Liam had been looking at the roses just as I'd been. It was the only safe thing to put your focus on. We wouldn't look each other in the eye as silence loomed over us for more than twenty minutes, and around the gardens there were patients and relatives needing moments of privacy. He took one pink rose from the vase and extended it to me, still not meeting my eyes.

Once I'd taken the rose he said, "Why wouldn't I be here? Your dad has always been kind to me and so has your family. It's only right that I'm here for moral support and good faith."

"Good faith," I repeated in soft murmur, almost scoffing at the idea as I twirled the flower by its stem. "Why does everyone seem to think he's invincible?"

Liam's brown gaze finally met mine. His eyes gleamed with incredulity, but also with sympathy. I knew him like I knew the back of my hand: Liam Greengrass always saw the sun shine even when night fell and darkness stretched across the sky. For him there was always a light at the end of the tunnel, and he was always determined to make others see it, too. He thought he won me over when we were dating in respects to that, being hopeful. But I'm never hopeful. Tragically, I'm a realist.

"He's not immortal, either," I continued in small whispers. "Everyone is so keen to see him like he is, like he's some hero, like he can take on the world by himself, but he isn't. He might have saved the world once, but that doesn't make him indestructible. They knew him based off books, but he's my dad. I saw him coming back from raids, bruised and bloody, wounded from trying to rid the world of evils. I saw him sick and in bed. I saw him at his worsts...

"I want to believe he's going to make it, Liam," tears fell down my cheeks and my right hand went to wipe them away, "but the Healers don't have high expectations. How can I, then? How can I...Merlin. It's all fucked up."

Placing my right palm over my mouth to muffle my cries, I shut my eyes and continued to cry. That's all I could do. That's all anyone in my family has done for the past couple of days. I was getting used to my sight being blurred by my tears, the knot in my throat that sometimes forbade me from breathing or talking, and the pain in my chest that was slowly chipping my heart into dust.

Liam's hand reached for mine and he squeezed for a moment. Then, I heard him slide his chair back, stand, and felt him get close to me. He knelt before me, I could feel his hand on my knee, his thumb rubbing soothing motions back and forth.

"It's not over until it's over, Lily," he said with such certainty. "He might not be immortal, but he's always been a strong man. Harry Potter always survives. He might be in a hospital bed right now, but that's a good enough chance to assume he'll wake up and walk out. Not many people get that kind of possibility. I wish my father would've gotten that sort of chance, but instead he died instantly. So, for Merlin's sake, Lily, have some faith."

My eyes opened and met his. In that moment, with the way his brown orbs stared right back at me, filled with confidence, filled with kindness, I saw the light. I saw the sun. I saw everything beautiful and bright that Liam glows with.

My free hand went to cup the side of his face, and automatically, the way I'd done for so long, something that was second nature to me, I leaned in so my lips could find his.

"Lily," he breathed, moving his head to the side so instead my lips touched his cheek. "Don't."

I tried swallowing down the knot of emotion in my throat. "Why not?"

He took a deep breath, collecting courage so he can look back at me. "I'm dating Gracen Goyle now."

My chest contracted by the surges of pain spasming over my heart and ribcage, but I still managed anger. "No you're not."

"I am."

"You're not," I snapped back. "You're not dating Goyle, Liam. That's ridiculous. I know you're friends with her, hell even that she likes you, but you are not dating her. Tell me that's not true."

"She's an incredible girl," is what he decided to say instead as I gaped at him with complete outrage. "She makes me smile and laugh and happy and...I really like her, Lily. She's just the type of person I need beside me. We get each other. I asked her to be my girlfriend before the Easter holidays."

"Then why are you here?!" I stood from my chair and pushed him backwards. He fell against the grassy ground, confusion in his expression, as I glared down at him. "Go to her! Go to your little bloody Ravenclaw and have fun! No one asked you to be here! I bet she didn't even consent on letting you—"

"No one lets me do anything," he cut across me. He stood in a swift motion, adding distance between us, "nor did I ask for permission. She trusts me. She's a sweet girl who understood exactly why I needed to be here."

My right hand rose into the air and smacked against his chest. "You're a liar! You said you were in love with me! How can you be in love with me and date that stupid girl?!"

All previous light that once made Liam shine darkened with fury. The brown in his eyes turned black like an abyss. "Where the hell is this coming from, Lily? Because the way I remember it, you broke up with me and then went off with Octavio De la Cruz! I have all the right in the world to move on if I bloody well please!"

"I'm not with De la Cruz!"

"I don't care," he snarled back. "You made your choice when you ended our relationship. You just can't have your cake and eat it too, Lily. You got what you've always wanted from him, but I'm not at your disposal for love and affection now that you're done. I'm with Gracen, okay. I like her. And I'm done with you."

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He was gazing at the moon from the window of his treehouse. There was something quite peaceful about the way the moonlight fell and illuminated the village of Godric's Hollow. He could see the church, the little shops, and the intensely-white snow on the pavement and on the rooftops of the other houses. There were echoes of holiday carols heard through the streets, so low that one needed to pay extra attention in order to tell the noise was there.

He expected to stay there for another hour, avoiding the world and all the emotions that came with it. His family thought he grew out of liking his treehouse, but there was one person who knew that he had added an extension charm to the place and hid there when things got a little tough.

'Avoiding the tragedy of being a teenager, are you?'

Albus turned from the window of his treehouse and towards the trap door on his left that was now open and showing his father.

The boy sighed. 'When does it ever get easier, Dad?' he asked with true sentiment. 'Is there some sort of enchantment that lets you find that one person you're meant to be with all your life?'

His father laughed lightly as he walked over to his son so both could share the spot beside the window. A gleam of happiness reflected off the man's emerald eyes as he gazed upon his hometown. 'I'm afraid not,' he replied.

'There should be,' Al grunted. 'Heartache is a bitch.'

'I expect so. But you know what, son? Everyone goes through it. There is not one person on this planet who has not gotten their heart broken. That's the underrated beauty of love, though. You have to go through a few broken hearts, grow and mend, until you find that one person you're meant for.'

Al turned to his father and frowned. 'You've gotten your heart broken?I thought you and Mum had the perfect romantic story.'

'I was a teenage boy once,' informed Harry. 'I might have done it a little differently than you, which I'm eternally grateful for, but I knew heartache, jealousy, and the works. My first broken heart was due to Cho Chang. She was a Ravenclaw, kind and pretty, but she was in love with Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff. He died and then I dated Cho. She was never really over him, she was too emotional, and she thought I was in love with your Aunt Hermione. It was a disaster.'

The boy uneasily gawked at his father. 'It sounds absolutely horrid.'

'It was,' grinned Harry, recalling the only past memories he had as a regular, hormonal teenage boy. 'Then I fell for your mother. She was radiant, on fire, beautiful, confident—much like how she is now—but she was dating my friend Dean Thomas.'

'Luna's husband?!'

Harry laughed again. 'The point is, Al, that love is complicated. You never know when it's going to come, whom you're going to feel it for, and whether it's going to be right or wrong. There is never a guarantee your heart is going to be the same after, either. But love is a great risk that all of us need to take. So, yes, you might be pining over Nia Harper right now, hurting because you haven't found a way to charm her, but that's no reason to feel hopeless.'

'You know about Nia?' Al asked.

'Everyone knows you like Nia, Al,' replied his father with another grin.

The boy sighed. 'And what if I'm no good for her? What if I do get to have her and I end up being another heartbreak along the way for her? I don't want to be, Dad. I don't ever want her to feel the way she makes me feel right now.'

'Love is a risk,' repeated Harry, 'but it's also worth fighting for. Most importantly, love heals all wounds. Remember that before you give up on her.'

The memory faded and left me with a racing heart, sweaty palms, anger boiling in my blood, and the shadow of a scream burning my throat.

I stood in the middle of my room with my eyes whizzing in my sockets as they roamed every corner of the room at the same time and in a fast pace. They saw every single thing out of its place and torn down: the posters of Puddlemere United were ripped from the walls, shredded into strips on the floor; clothes were also on the floor; my drawers were thrown over those piles; my trunk was overturned; my books were thrown in every corner of the four walls surrounding me; my lamps were shattered; the telly was smashed in; and my guitar was bent into an odd shape.

Everything was wrecked, but the first thing that went was the mirror at the furthest corner of my right wall. It mocked me when all I wanted to do was be alone in my room. That's how it all began. The mirror taunted me, spitting back my reflection without sympathy. The mirror didn't hesitate to emphasize the emerald eyes I'd inherited back at me, just as it showed me the unruly black hair that stuck out in the back.

The bloody mirror was intent on showing me my father's appearance in my own and I needed to destroy it. I need to break it. I needed to let him go. I needed him to stop haunting me; to stop looking back at me when I knew perfectly well that he wasn't.

I was going crazy.

"Fuck."

As I stood in the center of my room, inspecting the damage I'd done in my fit of desperate rage, I turned my focus to the door of my bedroom and my ears perked at the voice that hadn't been directed at me for what seemed like ages.

Nia slowly entered further into my room, careful not to step on anything that wasn't too badly shattered. Her blue eyes roamed everything as I'd been doing before her arrival, but she wasn't staring like it all deserved it. There was pity in her eyes.

When she finally turned back to me she said, "You've gone mental, haven't you, Potter?"

I didn't say anything. What could I say? She knew the truth just as I did. The only difference is that I knew I'd lost my head so long before my father's hospitalization. I lost my mind way back in the start of term when I decided that cheating on Nia was a harmless offense so long as I had a good time. But I couldn't tell her that, could I? She'd kill me. And she had every right in the world to kill me, I'd gladly give her my own wand or kitchen knife (depending on how she wanted me to go) and just close my eyes.

"And still as selfish as ever," she added. Her blue eyes narrowed at me as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're out here destroying your mother's house while she's over there with a broken heart. Typical. Very fucking typical behavior from your part, Potter, isn't it? You think of your own needs instead of your family's."

"I've accepted the truth," my voice was hoarse, rough, and slightly broken. "I don't want to be there when it happens. I can't be."

She walked closer to me, and the closer she got I could see the beautiful blue in her angry gaze that reminded me of a restless ocean. I could count her eyelashes at her proximity, reminding me of the times I had, the times when I lost myself in her bottomless gaze and saw the rest of our lives together. Instead of getting that, of getting the chance to recount old memories, I found that she only allowed herself to approach me in order to smack me across the face.

"You've taken the easy road out!" she snarled at me after retracting her palm from my left cheek. "You decided to wallow in misery instead of keeping faith alive! You and Lily are both fucking idiots, I swear to Merlin! Meanwhile the only one with any shred of sense is James—James who is currently at the hospital holding your mum's hand and helping her eat! He's keeping hope alive, fighting to remain so, and that takes fucking courage and strength!"

"I'm not James!" I yelled at her. "And maybe I'm a fucking coward and that's it!"

"I know you're a coward!" she retaliated. She raised her hand to slap me again, but I clutched onto it, squeezing her fingers tight. "Grow some balls for once, Potter, and face things the way they actually are instead of hiding! Your father's not dead so stop acting like he is!"

I growled like an animal was raging inside of me and it was trying to claw its way out from underneath my skin. I felt my anger, my desperation, and my misery burn every centimeter of my skin and fire come out of my mouth as I screamed like a lunatic. I wanted to scratch the monster out of me, release it so it could do the damage it wanted to create, but instead I sunk to my knees.

My hands went to cover my ears that were now sensitive to the rough roars leaving my lips. I cried out in agony, but it was not physical. My soul hurt. My heart was broken. And I was finding that my heart was broken for more than just Nia Harper. It was broken over my father, over myself, and over the mess my life had become.

I don't know how I got here. I don't know how I could've lost all my senses, everything that once had made me the reasonable, smart, and caring boy I respected when looking in the mirror. Now I couldn't even glimpse at the glass without feeling loathing.

Where had all my strength gone?

I felt Nia approaching before I felt her arms wrapping around me. She'd been hesitant at first, I sensed that, but then she hugged me. The skin of her knees was being punctured by the shards of glass and other material as she knelt before me, but all I paid attention to was her face burying itself in the crook of my neck. She took a deep breath in.

I don't know who started shaking first, but it was like an earthquake of despair waved off both our bodies when I hugged her in return. We embraced tighter, pulling each other in like the world was turning into ice and we only had each other's warmth to keep us alive. I breathed in her scent too; it was beautiful, sweet, and like coming home. In her arms was the place I needed to be the most. It was like a safe haven. It was were everything was right.

I only hoped she felt the same.

Pulling back slightly, my arms reeling back from around her waist, I let my hands reach for her face. Her sapphire-colored eyes were gleaming with tears. I saw pain, sympathy, fear, hate, and the dash of love I begged the heavens she still felt for me. It was enough of an incentive to dare myself to kiss her.

And I did kiss her.

The same animal within me stopped roaring with madness and inexcusable grief, but instead it transformed into a possessive monster. It made me grab her like I owned her, run my hands over her body, feeling the outline of her curves, the smoothness of her skin, like she was my property. My lips ravaged her mouth like it was claiming ownership; like I needed to leave the print of my mouth on them so no one else in the world dared to kiss her like I kissed her.

I wanted her to be mine, all mine. Always.

But I forgot. I forgot the past. I forgot that the monster inside of me had created one inside of her. I forgot that every step I'd previously taken had led me away from her. I forgot that she no longer answered to my call, that I no longer could claim her mouth or any part of her body like it was my right.

Her hands pushed at my chest until I fell backwards. She was shedding tears, I saw the moonlight focus on them and make them appear as diamonds that fell down her pink cheeks and dissolve.

"I can't do this with you anymore," she wheezed, clutching onto her chest as to insure that her heart would not jump out and crash against my cluttered bedroom floor.

I felt tears down my own cheeks. "I'm sorry," I told her. "I swear that I am, Nia. I swear that I'm sorry."

"That doesn't matter, not anymore. Whatever we had...That's over, Al. Don't mistake my sympathy for love. I hate you, Al; don't you get that?"

The monster wailed inside of me. I felt its sob ripple upwards, threatening to echo out, but I managed to press my lips into a tight line and hold it off for a moment.

Nia stood, wiping the blood from her cut knees like it was nothing. Her blue eyes glanced at me and I could see there was fight in them. I could see that she willed herself to pull away from the kiss, that she forced herself not to forgive me, to hold on to the pain I'd caused her. I knew I could break it, her self-preservation, because she loved me despite the hate that she also had for me, but I couldn't do that to her. My karma was letting her go.

I saw her eyes release a few more tears for me, but she used that same will to turn on her heels and head for the door. And just before she crossed my bedroom door, before she left me behind, someone else was there. It was Scorpius. They both looked at one another, and though I couldn't see Nia's gaze, I saw regret and guilt shine off of Malfoy's silver one to let me know she was still crying and in dire pain.

Once Nia had finally left, her footsteps resounding off my staircase as she no doubt was making her way to the sitting room to use the Floo Network, Scorpius walked in. Like Nia had done, he approached with care. His glanced around at my destroyed room, frowning disapprovingly, but also with resigned understanding.

"Need company?" he murmured as he pulled out his wand and made the glass from the floor dissolve.

"I thought you hate me nowadays," I managed.

His previous ire disappeared. "You're my best friend, Al. I can't hate you." With a sigh, he also added, "besides, I'd love to see you getting murdered for vandalizing your house."

"Or you can help me put everything back," I corrected.

"There's that, too." Malfoy outstretched his right hand for me to take. "And then afterwards we can go to hospital?"

I took his hand without a second thought. "Yeah," I muttered, "Mum needs me right now."