Here We Go Again

Chapter 29: The Grieving Stage

POV: Nia and Albus

It was hard to get out of bed. It was hard to get dressed. It was hard to go to class and sit through an entire lesson without breaking down in tears. It was hard to walk through the castle and not see the memories that once took place in the nooks and crannies of the corridors and empty halls. It was hard to sit among people and not feel like the walls were caving in around me. It was hard just to fucking breathe.

I didn't recognize the reflection staring back at me. Those blue eyes looking back at me, staring and inspecting...They were strangers. They held sadness, heartbreak, misery, and everything else that tears apart souls. There was no gleam. There was no sparkle of righteousness and confidence that once made me proud. Aside from the depression, they were otherwise empty. Everything inside me just felt empty.

There was pain, of course there was. I felt pain every single second of every single day. The pain was my absolute truth. After a while, though...After a while pain numbs you and you just can't feel anything anymore. You can't feel time ticking away and eating away the days, but you can feel pieces of your heart dying.

That's who I am now: a girl who's letting herself rot away.

My strength was gone—everything good about me was gone. I was a shell of what I used to be. That terrified me. That plagued my nightmares when a pair of emerald eyes didn't. This pain was too real and too fresh, it terrified me to think that maybe it was all I was going to know. Pain, and sometimes the kindness of being numb.

How do I go on?

Merlin. I hate that. I hate thinking that. But it's true. It's so fucking true. I've made fun of those annoying, weak girls who made a bloke the center of the world and who lived only for them. I always pitied the lot of them; those stupid, stupid girls. But look at me. Look at me, and I dare you not to see the comparisons. I hate myself. I hate my heart. I hate him.

You give your heart to someone, absolutely every aspect of your heart, even the pieces you don't like, the parts that you're ashamed of, and hope to the highest power that they take care of it. You give them all your trust. You give them your imperfect heart and hope that they can keep it safe from the dangers of romance. They look at it and see beauty, something you can't, and a part of you—the tiniest part of you—thinks that maybe they're being sincere. You see the way they look at you, at your mutilated heart, and you wonder how you ever got so lucky. You go to bed at night and you believe, you believe with everything you have, that you're in safe hands. You close your eyes believing that Love was compassionate by giving him to you. That maybe you've finally done something right, and that you're never going to suffer another broken illusion.

That's when it happens. In those blind moments, during the nights when your faith in him is solid, while he leads you which ever way he wants, when you think of him as the light, you give him your life in a silver platter. You give him absolutely everything and you never realize it.

When they're gone, after they've broken your already beaten and fragile heart, you finally see how stupid you were. You realize that not only you gave him your heart and soul, but your mind, too. You gave him every thought you ever created about yourself, including all the traits that made you into who you are. You gave him absolutely every fucking thing. With him, that strong, confident, fun, loving, independent, caring girl is gone, too.

That's how you end up hollow, trapped in an even emptier world. Without meaning to, you gave him your life and he took it without a proper goodbye. This is how your days become nights and your nights never let the rays of the sun take over...

There's light conversation in the common room as I walk in through the portrait hole. A huddle of students are around Freddie Weasley, watching in awe as he made a spectacle of the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes products his father sent him. As Freddie talked and demonstrated, one of his audience members found my eyes and the entertainment in his face disappeared.

I find the stairs for my dormitory.

Once I get there, peeking my head through a crack of the door to make sure that Rose nor Emily are present, I walked in without having to feign a smile. I kicked off my shoes, throw my schoolbag against the marbled floor, and I go straight for my four-poster. In this cruel, lonely world, my bed is my safe haven. I can close the curtains, throw up a spell, and be in my own bubble. I can cry, scream, and no one gets to see my demons.

I start stripping off my school robes, disregarding them on the floor along with my school things. I pull off the itchy, black tights, and then my school skirt joined it. Not far from those items, the mandatory jumper is flung off of my body, as well as the Gryffindor tie.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My back tensed at the noise, my fingers halting on the unbuttoning they were doing on my white shirt. I scowl, but I want to cry at the same time, too. I just wanted to be left alone. But I knew. I knew the moment my eyes met his that he was going to find a way up to my dormitory.

Sighing, I lowered myself on the mattress of my four-poster. I didn't say anything, but I didn't have to so that he lets himself in. He always lets himself in. He's never had to ask me for permission, and he was definitely not going to start now.

His brown eyes are the first thing I see again when the door opens. With a little more determination, his figure appears as he stepped a single step inside my dormitory. He looked nervous, but his resolve to finally speak to me allowed him to close the door behind him.

We stared at one another in silence.

If it was up to me, we'd stay in silence forever. If it was up to me, I would never open my mouth and my voice would die. If it was up to me, I wouldn't be able to hear anything; not ever again. So, of course, he broke the silence.

"How are you?" asked Liam, and it's the stupidest fucking question he's ever asked me.

I wanted to tell him so, but I refrained from insulting him. He's an idiot, but he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't know. No one knows. He's just being caring. He's just being Liam, my best friend.

Another sigh escaped my mouth. I shrugged my shoulders carelessly.

"You missed breakfast again," he informed me, like I didn't bloody well know I didn't go get food. Again, I refrained from being mean. Even my sarcastic side is gone. There's nothing left of me. Just pain. Just fucking pain.

Well, there's a tint of something else. I feel it. I didn't feel it until right now. It's something close to desperation, but I can't tell what kind.

"Emily's out of the Hospital Wing, you know," Liam added, turning the conversation in hopes that he could get a different reaction from me.

He won. As fucking void as I feel inside, my friend's well-being is something my brain doesn't let me forget. "I know," I replied slowly. "I saw her."

"She's so much better," he continued, a little smile tugging the corner of his mouth. "We want to go to the Three Broomsticks and celebrate this weekend."

I nodded, but I was no longer listening to him. Instead, I studied his smile. How the hell did Liam do it? How the hell did Liam move on, how did he live, after he and Lily broke up? I didn't understand. As bloody wrong as that girl was for Liam, he loved her. He loved her more than he loved me, and I just couldn't see how he stood there, smiling, and looking as sincere as he's always been.

I wanted to ask him, but I didn't. I forbid myself to even mention the girl, if I did I'd have to connect her blood-ties, and feel the darkness come out before the moon does outside. For a moment, I wanted to forget.

That feeling of desperation came back. It quickened, it became nervous, it became terrified, and it started screaming and banging all around my head.

I swallowed.

"I miss you, you know," Liam whispered, his brown eyes looking straight at me and they were so bloody emotional. He was so real. How does that happen?

My hands shook with that mix of desperation and fear. I inhaled deeply in attempts to calm myself. With a single, tiny second of clarity, I patted the free spot on my left.

With his reborn smile, Liam approached the bed happily. He sat down, continued to focus his brown stare at me, and his right hand reached for my left one.

My hand automatically balled into a fist, but I had to remind myself that Liam was Liam. Liam didn't mean any harm. Liam had never broken me before. I could trust Liam. He was my best friend. I loved Liam.

He begun to talk about something, but I couldn't hear him as my own eyes focused on his hand holding mine. His fingertips were touching the bare skin of my thighs, and it felt warm. His hand gently held onto mine, and that felt warm, too.

What happened next could only be blamed on his warmness and the desperation screaming in my head.

My arms flew and wrapped around his neck. If it would've been an embrace, he wouldn't have looked so startled. But what shocked him was the fact that my mouth found his, and that my lips trapped his with the movement of a kiss.

It was not the first time Liam and I shared a kiss. When we were younger, I used to occasionally peck him so that he could subdue in whichever game we were playing. It would always fluster him, he was so naive, but it'd never meant anything. Then, a year ago, while he sorted out how to approach his feelings for his ex-girlfriend and I, he decided to kiss me to find out what it all meant. It didn't go well, considering that I threatened to castrate him if he ever attempted to snog me again.

Now it was my turn. Now I kissed him by free-will.

"Nia," he managed to breathe out as he moved his head to the side, trying to fight me off as kindly as he could while his hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me back. "Stop. Nia, come on."

His strength surprisingly overpowered mine, and so we separated a few inches. I glared at him. "I don't want to stop," the words quivered, tears somehow threatening to bring themselves to life. "Please, Liam."

My best friend shook his head, so unaware of my impending breakdown. "It's not right."

"Says who?" I snapped, my hands, in turn, clutching onto his shoulders roughly.

"Nia, you're my best friend. Wait for a moment, okay. Realize what you're trying to do."

Through clenched teeth, I let out a shaky breath. "Just kiss me, Liam. Please."

"Why do you want that?"

"Because," I muttered in response, "it makes me feel."

He dropped his hands from my shoulders, but the right one went to cup the side of my face. Again, his brown gaze narrowed on me, looking at every aspect of me, and there was a fight in them as he did so. I thought that he was going to refuse, why wouldn't he after all, that was just the type of bloke he was, but he surprised me.

Love filled his brown eyes, making them sparkle at me and for me. His eyelids fluttered closed, and he leaned towards me. His mouth found mine in the sweetest of kisses.

It would've been heart-warming—if I'd wanted sweet.

My arms wrapped around his neck again, and his back fell against the mattress of my four-poster. My right leg flew to his side, allowing me to straddle him while our lips never parted. I kissed him with fervor. I kissed him like I was a minute away from dying and all I had left to give him was myself. I put all the raw, destructive energy inside me into our kiss in hopes that he'd consume it all and save me from it.

His hands clutched onto my waist, letting everything happen as I wanted it. A part of him was resistant, I could feel it, after all, I knew him so well. He was an open book to me. I knew that a part of him was still wondering if he made the right choice, just like I knew that another part of him wanted to, as well. It wasn't like we never thought of it, us together like this. It had come up, the discussion and thoughts, before, but we knew we'd work better as best friends. And that was okay. He was my best friend, and he'd been the only one to never tear me apart.

It was a good thing that Liam had ridden himself of almost all of his school uniform before I even entered the common room. It was easy for my fingers to find their way to his tie and loosen it with a single, careful tug. After removing it from around his neck, my fingers went to work on the buttons of his shirt.

As I decided to further undress him, Liam's thumbs rubbed gentle circles on the sides of my waist. I could feel his heart beating away at an incredible rhythm, but I could trust him to be a gentleman in all of this. Testosterone could be fueling his blood, but he'd always find a way to behave himself.

I needed to rid him of that habit for now. I didn't want him to be nice. I didn't want to feel loved and cared for—not after those two things had failed me massively.

After slipping off his shirt, my mouth temporarily left his to find a place on his neck. My teeth grazed the skin a little harshly, but I wasn't surprised that it was Liam's sensitive spot and that it got a reaction. The hold he had on me tightened, and I started to feel him giving over to me.

He worked his fingers, clumsily, on the buttons that I didn't get to undo on my own shirt. His hands were warm, but they echoed his nervousness when they went to slip off my shirt from my shoulders. Once he dared himself to do so, his eyes opened. If it was still in my nature, I would've smirked. Instead, I stared at him straightforwardly as I pulled myself upright for a moment. Carefully, Liam sat up to get a look at me.

There I was: only covered by a bra and underwear.

The color drained from Liam's face, and I felt his reaction down north. I hoped that one day I'd be able to look back at this and laugh about it. I loved Liam, but the poor bloke was unaware of everything. In a way, I was selfishly satisfied that he had kept his hands off of his ex-girlfriend as he'd claimed over and over.

I took his nervous hands and placed them on my chest, allowing him to cover the cups of my bra. He looked frightened, yet eager to learn. Good. If I had to be his first everything, I'd done a good deed, then. His ex-girlfriend didn't deserve him. Just like her bloody brother didn't deserve me. Liam and I didn't need them, we had each other.

As he processed the fact that I was letting him fondle me, my fingers went to the zipper of his trousers. I didn't think too much of it, I just let my brain run in automatic. My body wasn't responding as it should've, but in time I hoped to forget by feeling Liam. Liam was the realest thing, after all.

I tilted my body forward so that I could gather his lips into another kiss. He kissed me back, his hands still frozen in the spot I left them in. My fingers hooked onto his trousers and I was about to pull down when he stopped me. He gripped my hands tightly, and again, he pushed me away and broke our kiss.

A glare was back on my face as I found his caring brown eyes.

"You're a virgin," he whispered to me, and for some reason I saw his heart break when he said it. "I am, too."

"So?" I shrugged. "You can have it—you can have me."

"This isn't us."

"Says who?" I was angry again. "Am I not appealing?"

"You're beautiful," he muttered, still looking at me like I was damaged goods. My anger hadn't phased him. Once upon a time it used to scare him, but I supposed that now I didn't even have my ability to intimidate. "You're gorgeous, Nia. Any bloke would want to be exactly where I am right now."

"Then?"

He sighed as he released my hands so that he could hold onto the sides of my face. Again, he studied my eyes as if he was trying to find my soul. "I'm not one of those blokes, Nia. I'm your best friend. I love you. I'm not going to take anything from you. Especially not in the state you're in."

"I'm fine," I growled.

He should've listened to me. He should've pretended to believe me. But he didn't. Liam never let anything go, especially if it was killing me and he fancied himself my hero.

"What happened with Albus, Nia?"

All it took was his wretched name for the numbness to disappear and the pain to flood back in with a vengeance. I would've liked to say that I fought with all that I had in me to keep myself as neutral as I could, but I'd be lying. There was no strength in me. My life was just on pause when I wasn't crying. Now, with Liam looking at me like he was afraid, like he cared, in that particular moment, seeing him alive and well, I broke. Life restarted with a fresh batch of endless tears.

My arms flew around Liam's neck again, but this time I didn't snog him. I held on to him like the winds were threatening to fly me away. I held onto him with the same desperation that had made me attack him before.

He was holding on to me with the same tight grip. He let me bury my face into the crook of his neck, and my tears to gather like puddles in the crevices of his collar bone.

"He cheated," I managed to huff out in my hysterical crying. "Al was sleeping with De la Cruz."

It was the first time I'd voiced it out loud, and it stripped me down into an ocean of sobs.

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Detention with Professor Binns was never really detention. The old ghost would drone on about half an hour on how during his time in school, (which we all reckoned was far too long ago, possibly before Hogwarts was even constructed), the pupils had respect for rules and their professors. He would judge the new generations, and then he'd dismiss himself with the claim of being no one's sitter. Not that anyone complained about it, but McGonagall should really know better than having Binns lead detention.

That is how the classroom, that originally had ten students, now only held four. And, surprise, surprise, they were all my relatives.

"What did you do to be in here, Hugo?" James asked our Ravenclaw cousin. "Aren't you one of the goodie-two-shoes Gran likes to use on the lads and I to show her disappointment? I'm going to rub this in her face, just so you know."

Hugo rolled his blue eyes. "You do that."

"Come on now," Louis added to the conversation, "tell us. We'll tell you why James and I are in here."

"You don't have to tell me," Hugo retorted. "Everyone bloody well knows why you two are in here. You attacked two Slytherins who were tampering with the Quidditch gear. Not that it matters, you know Ravenclaw is going to win the cup and you two are going to have to honor your end of the deal."

James scowled at our cousin, but Louis went in for the defense. "Gryffindor still has a chance. Who's side are you on, mate? We're your cousins!"

Hugo smiled condescendingly. "If you lose—which you will—you two and Freddie have to run across the grounds, on your graduation day, naked. I can already see Aunt Ginny's face, and the humiliation is golden."

"We will not lose," Louis mumbled to my brother in a reassuring manner. "Don't worry about it. We'll make sure of it."

The mock smile on Hugo's face didn't leave, especially when he turned to face me. I'd been in the corner of the classroom since the beginning, trying not to interact with my relatives, and it had been working. For a few days now, given my foul attitude and the obvious rumours about me, they kept their distance. They were curious to know, as everyone was, but they respected my privacy—which was strange for them.

James attempted to ask once, but I ended up punching him on the jaw. Of course, he punched me right back and asked what the hell was that for. I just couldn't talk about it. I couldn't fess up my mistakes.

I was a shit person, wasn't I?

Merlin, that didn't even require an answer. I knew it. I bloody felt it every fucking time I breathed. How could I be such a scum?

Part of me wanted to pretend, you know; before my mistakes were revealed. I acted as if my fling with Ophelia De la Cruz was nothing, like I wasn't the least bit moved by it, but I was. I had to confess that. In the back of my head I could see Nia's blue eyes lose their glitter, I could see the betrayal I was committing, but I didn't let myself care.

I wanted to hurt her.

Who the fuck does that? Who the fuck wishes to hurt their girlfriend on purpose?

Now I can't live with myself. I can't look at myself in the mirror without wanting to mutilate what I saw.

For a few days now I've been keeping low, which is the least I could do. For her, for Nia, the best thing I could do was hide. And I did: I didn't eat my meals in the Great Hall, I didn't request the presence of my friends, nor did I inflict mine on them, I steered clear from packs of Gryffindors, and I didn't go into the library. In classes, after ditching several and getting a week worth of detention for it, I sat in the back, in a corner, and never spoke or created attention. I let her be.

But it tore me apart to see her. She wasn't the girl I fell in love with, and I couldn't help to hate myself even further. I caused that. I killed her confidence, her strength, her attitude, and the glitter in her orbs. I killed Nia Harper's essence. She was just a shell of what once was.

I wanted to find her several times. I wanted to kneel before her and beg. I wanted to beg for forgiveness, I wanted to beg to be in her presence, and I wanted to beg to have her in my arms. I missed her. I missed every little thing about her.

They say you never know what you have until it's gone, and fuck were they right. But this is much worse. I knew, I knew just how much Nia was worth and I crushed her. I destroyed our relationship.

I can't hide behind my excuses anymore. I can't hide behind my insecurities, can I? I wanted it. I wanted to play Ophelia's game, no matter what it would cost me. I let myself be a fucking typical bloke and I lost what was absolutely extraordinary.

How do I go on now?

I don't know what to do with myself, let alone my life. I mucked things up royally, and now I'm lost. But, in a way, I've been lost this entire year. I became someone I wasn't, and now I'm all alone.

"Aunt Hermione is not going to be pleased to know that her little boy was—"

Whatever taunt Louis was going to throw at Hugo, it was silenced by a loud bang. It startled my cousins and brother, even myself, and we all turned to the door that had just been hexed open.

In a flash, it was hard to make out who it was because of the speed the person rushed into the classroom with. A second later, Liam Greengrass was pulling me out of my seat, and all I saw was the enraged brown of his eyes and his fist colliding with my face.

Punch. Punch.

"You bloody bastard!" I closed my eyes and took another punch.

"Quick! Liam's coming to properly murder—Merlin! Someone stop him!"

Through the commotion, through the shouting and insults being spit out by the Gryffindor attacking me, my ears faintly picked up Freddie's voice.

"What the hell's going on?!" It was James.

"I don't know!" screamed Freddie.

Punch. Punch.

"Oi! Greengrass! That's my brother, stop it!"

Punch.

"Jump in there, James!"

"PROTEGO!"

And that was it. Liam flew off of me, landing with a thud on the floor of the classroom. I was opposite him, trying to weakly raise myself from a bundle on the floor. I spat blood that had collected in my mouth. A groaned escaped my mouth.

Through my sore eyes, I saw Scorpius now inside the classroom, too. His wand was out: he was protecting me from his cousin.

"What the hell's going on?" James repeated again, marching himself to me. He attempted to give me a hand, but I slapped it away. I didn't want his help.

Shaking his fists, as if he was hoping the swelling and tingles caused by hitting me would fade by doing so, Liam got onto his feet. His fury, however, was not gone. In all the years that we've known him, no one has ever seen such hatred and disgust in the bloke's eyes before.

I knew then what all of it was about.

"You gave him the Marauders Map?" James hissed at Freddie as he bent to pick up the scrap of parchment that had gone unnoticed. "We don't use the map for violence, Freddie! Especially not when it involves one of our own!"

Freddie frowned at my brother. "Oi, you don't understand! Greengrass came down from the girl's dormitory, zipping up his trousers and with an open shirt, demanding for the map. I mean, he was up there with Harper! And he'd clearly been naked before—I was intrigued! You can't blame me! He'd taken off with the map after he told me he was coming to murder Al!"

"You lucky bastard, Greengrass," muttered Hugo in the background. "Congratulations."

At that, I forgot the soreness and throbbing of my eyes when they opened as wide as they could go. "What the hell were you doing with Nia?!"

"I wasn't doing anything, you fucking dimwit!" Greengrass yelled back. "Unlike you, you tosser, I love her! I respect her!"

My jaw clenched tight.

"What does that even—"

"You don't come near her ever again, you understand me?!" Liam was not an intimidating bloke by the least, but the determination and deep-rooted hatred he was currently displaying was enough to make anyone think that he was capable of killing. Which, I assumed, he might want to do. He might be on the verge of murdering, and I deserved it.

There was confusion in my relatives' expressions.

I sighed, balling my palms. "I do understand," I said unwillingly, with my heart breaking. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it better!" Liam launched forward, but Scorpius reinforced the shielding charm and James jumped in the middle to forbid him from getting to me.

Tears welled in my eyes and I wasn't ashamed by it. I tried to swallow down my pain, but I failed. "I know," I growled, infuriated but with myself. "I fucking know, but I am! I am sorry, Liam! I failed her."

The easy-going, loving, and noble Liam Greengrass was gone. He didn't look down at me with sympathy, with some sort of understanding. Instead, his brown eyes reflected the image of what I hated the most—me, a rotten bastard.

"Liam," Malfoy spoke from the background. "Leave it, mate. Let's just go."

The Gryffindor turned quickly to cast his narrowed eyes at his cousin. "You stay away from Nia, too," he warned, his teeth clenched together. Red filled his cheeks. "The only reason why I don't pummel you is because you're my cousin. If you weren't..."

Malfoy lowered his head, but not before we all saw guilt in his silver eyes.

Merlin, I'd really screwed everything up. I made Malfoy, my best friend, an unwilling accomplice in my mistakes. I made him carry them; now everyone blamed him, too.

I was definitely alone now.