"We're barely hanging on"

Our N.E.W.T.s were all finished, but there was one week left until the end of the term. Ten days left until the graduation ball that would mark the official end of our time at Hogwarts. By this point, most people in my year had complete certainty about what their lives would look like when they left the walls of this school. They had universities, internships, or jobs waiting for them — things they had secured weeks or months ago. I, meanwhile, had no idea what the future was going to hold, and it was wrecking my sanity.

A month ago, I could have said with complete certainty what my life would look like after graduation. My parents had encouraged me to apply to a Muggle university in London — it wasn't commonly done, but they were able to pull some strings with their friends at the Ministry to get my transcripts and such in order. My marks were high, and I'd been easily accepted — I was going to major in political science and minor in literature. I was going to live with my cousin Molly, who had a flat within walking distance of the campus. I was going to graduate at the top of my class and get a good job at the Ministry of Magic. I was going to do things there, great things, things that would make people see me as much more than Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger's daughter. And now...

Now, I was going to have a baby.

As I swiped on a light layer of lip gloss and stood back to observe myself in the mirror, that fact was all I could think of. Don't get me wrong, I looked fine. I looked good. My vibrant hair was half up/half down, with wavy strands of red framing my face. My eyes were sparkling like I was happy. The t-shirt I wore was cute and comfortable, jet black with bright yellow sunflowers ringed around the ends of the sleeves. It was half tucked into a pair of short-but-not-too-short denim shorts, which I'd pinched from Lily. My feet weren't visible in the mirror, but I had on a pair of new white sneakers that were an early graduation present from Lysa. Yes, to anyone looking, I would look good. But I knew things they didn't.

I knew that I'd chosen the shirt because it was one of the looser ones I owned. I knew that I'd swiped the shorts because Lily wore a size larger than me, and most of mine from past summers didn't fit me now. I knew that a few months from now, none of it would fit me at all — probably not even the shoes. And I knew that I was woefully unprepared for all of it.

Someone was knocking on the door to the dormitory. "Rosie? Andy's asking for you. Should I let him in?"

I bit my lip, tasting lip gloss and shame. Andy's asking for you. Tonight was the last time he ever would. "Let him wait," I called back to her, trying to make my voice sound cheerful. "I'll be down in just a moment."

Glancing over myself once more, I took a shaky breath and grabbed the only thing I needed to bring: the Hufflepuff jumper that I'd taken from Andy the first day we were together. As my hands clutched the soft fabric, I found I was blinking tears out of my eyes, and exhaled determinedly. Stop crying, Rose. It's no one's fault but yours.

When I was certain I wasn't in danger of starting to cry the moment I saw him, I slipped out the door and down the stairs, praying to whatever gods existed that we'd both make it through the night without any fatal wounds.

---

"Do you have a dress picked out for the graduation ball?"

I raised my eyes at my boyfriend. "You do realise that we girls plan these things out three to six months in advance, right? We have to do a bit more than slap on the same dress robes we've been wearing to every minorly fancy event since we were thirteen."

Andy chuckled, reaching out to wrap his arm around my shoulders and draw me close to him as we continued walking towards the castle. "So what I'm hearing is... yes?"

"Yes," I confirmed. "Why so curious?"

"Well... would you like to tell me what colour it is?"

I hummed. "And whyever would I do that?"

"So I can find a tie or something to match it, silly. We wouldn't look like the lovely couple that we are if we showed up in clashing colours."

I stopped in my tracks, and turned to face him, a smirk playing on my lips. "Andy."

He frowned at me. "What?"

"Did I miss the part where you asked me to go with you?"

My boyfriend looked taken aback. "You're my girlfriend... of course we're going together. Unless you had another date arranged?"

I slapped his arm lightly. "I don't have another date, you idiot. But you could ask anyway."

Eyes sparkling, Andy pulled me close, lowering his lips to the nape of my neck. "Rose..." he said, "will..." he bit down on my skin, and I sighed softly, twisting his hair in my fingers. "...you..." his lips moved higher. "...go..." he trailed kisses along my jawline. "...to..." he nipped at my ear, and I laughed. "...the ball..." he moved to my cheek. "...with me?" his lips landed on the corner of my lips, and then travelled over for a real kiss, which lasted as long as a kiss possibly could.

When we came up for air, I whispered a breathless yes against his lips and wondered what I had ever done to deserve such happiness. I was so caught up in the moment, I didn't even think until later about the fact that once he knew the truth, he would never want to kiss me like that again. And he certainly wouldn't want to take me to the graduation ball.

That was at the end of May. Now, here we were, walking the same route of the grounds that we had walked that night... but the energy was impossibly different. That night, I had been allowing myself to forget. Tonight, I was forcing myself to remember.

We walked side by side, fingers tangled together in the space between us. It was a cloudy night, and the moon was hard to see — just like my future. I felt my arm move, and glanced over just as Andy was pressing his lips to the back of my hand. He looked at me like I was the only thing he noticed in the entire world. "This is my favourite part of every day," he said quietly. "Just being with you."

I swallowed; put on a fake smile. "Are you sure you don't prefer something else? Something like... I don't know... breakfast?"

Andy snorted. "Very funny." Not long ago, he had gone on quite the rant about how underappreciated the first meal of the day was, and how it didn't get the respect it deserved. I'd made it my mission to tease him about it at every chance I got.

I was going to miss teasing him — being teased by him, too. He had a lovely sense of humour, and there was truly never a dull moment with him. And Merlin, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed...

"Are you all right, Rose? You seem... I dunno. You seem like your mind is somewhere else."

When I saw him frowning at me, I felt like a knife was being pressed against my throat. Even though the frown was, at the moment, merely there out of concern... I knew that soon he would be wearing a much different frown. And it would be my fault.

I swallowed again — damn me, getting emotional before I'd said a word — and tugged my hand out of his, stopping and turning to face him. "It is," I said, the words barely a whisper. But I forced myself to speak louder as I went on. "I think... I think we need to talk."

A different frown crossed Andy's features. "Sure. Is... everything okay?"

I shook my head, but couldn't speak — a new lump was forming in my throat.

He stepped closer to me, lifting his hand to cup my cheek as he spoke in a tender voice. "Hey. Tell me what's wrong."

His touch crumbled my resolve. I shut my eyes and leaned into his shoulder. "It's nothing; I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I'm just... overthinking."

Andy sighed, and I felt him kiss the top of my head. "Don't apologise, okay? I'm more than happy to listen if you want to talk about something."

I exhaled, and moved to press my lips to his. "I know. It's really nothing, though."

"Promise?"

"Promise," I told him, trying to look like I meant it. "Listen, I'm... I'm a bit tired. Can we go back inside?"

"Sure," my boyfriend said, reaching to grab my hand again and smiling at me. "Whatever my lady wishes."

I laughed, but my mind took me back to that day in the library — Scorpius calling me that, and me responding I am no one's lady. I had always hated the thought of belonging to someone, in any sense of the word. And yet... at some point, I'd begun to give myself away. I could hardly contradict Andy for those words; I'd given him a great deal of myself in the time we'd been together. Maybe even my heart.

It was quiet inside the castle — curfew had passed, but there was no sign of Flich. Anyways, Andy was the Head Boy, so he pretty much had free reign when it came to traipsing around at all hours of the night. We climbed one set of stairs, then another. He made a point of always walking me all the way back to Gryffindor tower, because it was the gentlemanly thing to do, or something like that. Some nights we were lively, but tonight we didn't talk as we made our trek from one level to the next. There was, in fact, pretty much complete silence... until we rounded the corner of the next staircase and nearly ran into Scorpius Malfoy.

I let out a yelp and stumbled backwards — I might have taken quite the fall if Andy hadn't quickly moved to catch me. As I recovered my footing, Scorpius was all apologies.

"Bloody hell, I- I'm awfully sorry. I had no idea you were... It's my fault entirely. Bloody stupid of me; Al's always telling me I ought to watch where I'm going, and I never listen, damn it. Are you... you're all right?"

I gave him what I hoped was a gracious smile: kind, but not too familiar. "Yes, quite alright. Don't worry yourself about it."

"Good," the blond boy sighed, his eyes softening from panic to relief. "I... Good." His eyes travelled down to our interlocking hands, then back up to my face. There was an unmissable reprimand there. I could practically hear him putting the sentiment into words: you said you would break up with him.

I forced myself to look away; to look at Andy and smile. "We ought to get along, yes?"

My boyfriend smiled, dropping my hand to drape his arm over my shoulder. "Certainly, love. You really should get some sleep, after all your hard work the past few weeks. " He nodded cordially at Scorpius. "Have a good night, Malfoy. Don't do anything that will make me regret not taking points from you for breaking curfew."

Scorpius gave the least willing smile I'd seen in my entire life. "Yeah, of course. Er... good night, then."

He passed us as if to continue down the stairs, and we started up the next set. But when I glanced back, he was still on the landing, staring up at me with those sad, accusatory grey eyes. That look was all it took to remind me how wrong I'd been, when I was pondering what I'd given of myself to Andy. I had given him many things, yes. But my heart... my heart had yet to escape the dominion of that platinum-haired boy.

---

"Why the long face, Rosie? You've been brooding all afternoon."

I lifted my head to frown at Lily Potter, who was perched next to Lysa on the sofa in the Gryffindor common room. I, meanwhile, was currently prostrated on the floor, with a book in front of me that I hadn't read a single page of in the hour we'd been here. "I'm fine."

"Oh, bullshit," Lysa interjected. "I feel like I haven't seen you smile in a week or more, and you keep staring off into the middle distance with a horrid melancholy expression on your face. You ought to tell us what's going on. Is there trouble with Andy?"

I glared at my friend. "Why is a woman's sadness always assumed to be about a man?"

She crossed her arms. "Are you saying that in this case it isn't?"

Groaning, I dropped my head back to the ground. "I'm not saying anything."

"Is he being an arsehole about something?" Lily inquired. "Because all boys are, at some point or another. I wouldn't take it personally."

I exhaled slowly. "No. He's been... perfect, really. Sweet, and attentive, and understanding, and—"

"Good in bed?" Lysa finished.

I sat up to scowl at her. "I was not going to say that."

"Hm, but you're not denying it." The blonde girl laughed, shaking her head. "He does seem like the whole package, Rosie. And you really like him, as far as I can tell. So what's the matter?"

I pulled my knees up to my chin, feeling my lips droop into a deep frown. "He is, and I do. There are just... outside circumstances. Unavoidable ones."

"Like what?" Lily scoffed. "Surely your parents couldn't have any objections; he's perfectly acceptable in terms of character and intelligence and all that."

I swallow. "It doesn't matter what they are. They exist, and I... I have to break up with him."

Lysa was looking at me like I was insane. "Rose. This guy is literally the greatest thing that could possibly have happened to you, and you're going to dump him for some reason you won't even tell us?"

Looking away, I wrapped my arms around my knees. "Don't question it, okay? I've made up my mind. I was going to do it last night when we were out; it just didn't happen. Besides, when did you become such a cheerleader for this relationship? You were mad at me when I started dating him. Both of you were."

"Yes, because we thought you were rebounding," Lily exclaimed, although she kept her voice soft to prevent others in the common room from overhearing. "But if—"

"You were right!" I finally snapped, looking up to meet both of their eyes. "You were right, okay? I was rebounding. It was a bad idea. All it did was make things more complicated... and I... I'm done."

Lysa had been watching me carefully throughout the conversation, and I saw understanding click in her eyes. "You still have feelings for him, don't you?"

She didn't need to say the name; it was perfectly clear that she wasn't referring to Andy.

I ducked my head. "No, I... No, Ly. Don't be ridiculous."

Lily's voice came, gentle and sympathetic: "It's nothing to be ashamed of if you do, Rosie. When you've slept with someone, you can't always help—"

"I am not ashamed," I hissed, standing up in a single motion that they both seemed startled by, "and I do not need to explain myself to either of you. You've both been awful, you know that? You're supposed to be my friends, and all you do lately is tell me all the ways I'm screwing up. Well, guess what? I know I've screwed up. But that's my business, okay? Mine. So just stay the fuck out of it."

A deep scowl graced my features as I stormed away from them and up the stairs to the dormitory, too angry to think about what I'd just said.

---

The next couple of days were rather lonely. I didn't tell Andy much about the fight; only that there had been one, and that my friends weren't speaking to me. He gave up trying to get more than that out of me. I sat at the Hufflepuff table for every meal — Auntie Hannah had me on a potion now to ease the sickness, and I could stomach being in the Great Hall again — and I spent all my free time in the Head dormitories. I hardly went back to my room, except to get a change of clothes, or something of that sort. Near the end of lunch on Wednesday, I told him I needed to make a trip back to the tower, and I'd meet him at his place in forty-five minutes or so. He agreed, and I went.

I only needed one thing from the tower, actually: Andy's jumper, which I'd taken with me on our walk on Sunday night, but ended up bringing back with me. I sat on the bed for a while just holding it in my hands, pondering what the next hour would bring. When sufficient time had passed, I went to meet him as I'd said I would.

When I came in -- the portrait had learned to tolerate me by now -- Andy was sprawled on the floor flipping absentmindedly through a book, and Evie was curled up on the sofa, sketchpad in her lap. They both sent smiles (admittedly, different kinds) in my direction, and Andy hopped up to greet me. "Hello, there."

I accepted a peck on the lips, and gave him the most sincere smile I could. "Hi." My eyes darted to Evie, who seemed very absorbed in her art, but nevertheless was right there. "Can we-?" I nodded towards his bedroom door. "I have to speak to you about something."

Andy shrugged. "Sure." I hated the nonchalance of his tone, the lightness of his steps as he led the way in. He had no idea what was coming. "I'm sorry if it's weird for you being around Evie," he said when he had shut the door behind us. "You know, just considering our... history, or whatever." He smiled sheepishly. "It took me a while to get past it myself."

"Oh, no, I don't..." I laughed breathily. "I don't feel weird around her; that's not it at all."

Andy stopped what he was doing (shifting some clothes from the bed to his chair) to raise an eyebrow at me. "It's alright if you do, you know. Totally understandable. I mean, personally... I consider myself pretty well adjusted and all, but I have to admit I'd find it the slightest bit awkward to be hanging around Malfoy."

My head snapped up, and my face must have been quite startled, because my boyfriend laughed softly.

"I guess that reaction means I'm right about that, then."

I blushed and stammered, "How long have you--?"

Andy waved a hand carelessly in the air, returning to his task. "Well, I always thought there were... I dunno, weird vibes between you two. But the other night on the stairs..." He shook his head; chuckled. "It was a bit obvious. No offence."

I exhaled slowly. This was not the conversation I'd come here to have. "Um... what exactly was obvious?"

Andy turned to look at me again. "That you and him had something, and it ended badly. And you both regret it."

I wasn't quite sure how to take the last statement, and as I opened my mouth to respond, I hesitated. He interrupted before I got around to saying a word.

"Don't feel like you have to explain anything," Andy said. "That's your business, and anyways... I know enough about him to draw my own conclusions."

I winced. "It was... ill-advised and short-lived. That's basically all there is to say about it."

"Other than the fact that he's still in love with you." I looked at my boyfriend again, confused by the nonchalance with which he was speaking. He rolled his eyes. "I may have turned into an awful slacker at some point this year, but trust me, you don't end up as Head Boy by being dumb — and I'd have to be a perfect idiot not to see the way he looks at you."

I scoffed. "He's not in love with me. He's had a thing for me since we were twelve, and what happened between us... confused him. But he's not... he's not in love."

Andy crossed the room to stand in front of me, arms folded over his chest, one eyebrow cocked. "Something scares you about that word, doesn't it?"

I ducked my head. "What word?"

"Love."

"Don't be ridiculous," I huffed.

"Hey—" Andy jostled my shoulder, and, when I'd looked back up, pointed to his head. "Not stupid, remember?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "That doesn't make you a psychoanalyst."

"I'm not psychoanalysing you. Just telling you the conclusion I've reached based on some observations."

Sighing, I straightened my shoulders, determined not to appear intimidated by this discussion. "What observations?"

"Well, for one thing, you looked absolutely horrified when I said it unexpectedly just now. Plus, every time I try to talk about my feelings for you, you change the subject before I can say much more than a few words, like you're trying to prevent the conversation from going too far in a direction that will make you uncomfortable. It may as well be Voldemort's name, the way you avoid it."

I pulled my arms tighter around myself. "What's your point?"

His eyes softened. "Don't look at me like that," he sighed.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm threatening you, just by bringing up the word love." I dropped my gaze to the floor and didn't reply. I heard him sigh again. "For what it's worth, Rose... I'm not afraid of it. I'm not going to skirt around telling you that I lo—"

"Don't," I snapped, breaking my silence as I glanced up at him sharply. He hardly flinched, but disappointment flickered behind his eyes.

"Why?" he said, after a long pause. "Why won't you let me..."

"Because I-" my voice broke, and I exhaled shakily, shutting my eyes because I couldn't bear to look at him as I spoke the words. "I think we have to break up, Andy."

Silence. I didn't open my eyes. Finally, he spoke, but when he did, I wished he hadn't. I could hear the hurt in his voice. "What?"

I made myself look at him now. Made myself look at the shocked, confused, betrayed expression on his face. "I..." My voice faltered. I almost told him the truth, then. But I didn't. "I just don't think it's going to... work out. And I'd rather... I think we ought to end it before we're in any deeper."

He looked... floored. Uncomprehending. "I sort of thought we were already in pretty deep," he said hoarsely.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but tears slipped through anyways. "I know. I'm sorry I let it go on for this long when I... I knew it wouldn't work out in the long run."

He swallowed. His eyes traced over my face, as if trying to read some further explanation in it. "I don't understand," he finally said. "Why don't you... why are... why have you suddenly just... lost belief in this? In us?" His voice cracked on the last word. He rubbed a hand over his face, but couldn't hide the tears that welled up in his eyes.

I shook my head slowly. "I can't explain it. I... I wish I could. Believe me, I wish I could. I just..."

"Rose, please." His voice was so raw; so broken. It was me that had done the breaking. "An explanation — can't you at least give me that much? After everything?"

The tears spilled down my cheeks in showers now. I wanted to take it all back; I wanted to be honest with him. I wanted him to still be mine. But it was best this way, wasn't it? It was now or later, and the longer I let this go on, the more he would be hurt in the end. At least this way he would never have to know the full truth. He wouldn't have to add that to his heartbreak.

"I'm sorry, Andy," I whispered. "Please believe that, if nothing else. I'm truly sorry."

Then, because I couldn't look at the expression on his face for one second longer, I walked away. Andy MacDowell was left standing alone in his bedroom, a crumpled yellow jumper laying at his feet where I had dropped it.