DO YOU FEEL ASHAMED
WHEN YOU HEAR MY NAME?
phoebe bridgers

Andy,

I think we should meet up to talk about this. How about Tuesday, 7 pm, The Leaky Cauldron?

Dee

"Who's that from?" Cordelia asked. "What? You've been staring at it all night, I'm curious." The woman said as she changed into her pajamas.

"Have you put Emily to bed yet?" Andrew asked.

Cordelia nodded and sat down at the foot of the bed next to her husband.

"You know the McDowell girl, Cleo?"

The blonde nodded.

"She told me that she... that she saw Aaron." Andrew took a deep breath.

Cordelia covered her mouth and her eyes widened. "What? How is that possible?"

"I thought it was crazy at first too but then I thought about it... I had a friend, you know, Dealla, who was really skilled at memory charms."

"Yeah, I remember that from Rory's birthday. How is that connected to Aaron though?"

"She married a Death Eater after the first war. Well, she didn't know he was one at the time but... whatever. It occurred to me that maybe she was at Malfoy Manor after Aaron was taken and maybe spared him or something. I wrote to her asking about it and this was her response." He handed Cordelia the letter and she began to cry.

"This is unbelievable," she said with a shaky breath. "I can't wrap my head around this... I never thought — "

Andrew nodded and gently grabbed his wife's hand. "I know, love. But if there's even a chance this could be true I need to do everything I can."

"I know," she said quietly. "I love you, Andy. Please don't let this destroy you, though. Please."

"I promise."

They both knew that that was a lie. Andrew couldn't do anything without allowing it to consume his entire being. He couldn't sleep that night and couldn't focus at work all day. All he could think about was meeting with Dealla.

When the time came up as six fifty-five, he stepped into his fireplace and said "The Leaky Cauldron". He saw her right away. She was sitting at their old table, how nostalgic. It was also hard to miss her frizzy mane of brown curls that sat atop her head. She smiled at him and he walked towards her.

Andrew didn't like to think about the last time he saw Dealla. He didn't like to think of the person he was when they were friends. He wasn't a fan of burying the past but some things are better left unsaid.

"Hey, Andy." She smiled.

"Dealla," he sighed, sitting down across from her. "Long time no see."

"How long has it been?"

He hesitated, "About twenty years."

"Still knocking up poor, unsuspecting girls?" She asked with a twinkle in her eye. Her humor and bluntness was something he missed.

"I'm actually married and I have another daughter. Her name's Emily. You'll never guess who agreed to marry me, actually."

"McGonagall?" The woman teased.

Andrew laughed, "Cordelia Elliot."

She gasped and reached across the table to lightly hit Andrew in shock. "No fucking way! She's only one of the best and most badass women who's ever touched a Quaffle. How did you manage that?"

"I finally realized how to appreciate a woman."

"About damn time."

"Are you and Henry still married?" Andrew asked with curiosity and caution because he knew it was a touchy subject for the woman.

Dealla quickly shook her head, "Oh no. I finally left him just before the... before the battle. Er... should we address the elephant in the room?"

"You mean you want me to ask you if you altered my son's memory and made everyone believe he was dead?" The man had a much more serious tone now. As much as he enjoyed catching up with an old friend, there was a reason why they were there in the first place.

"I knew he was your son... despite everything that happened between us I still owe you one, remember? I convinced the others to spare him. As long as you only all thought he was dead, their point would come across."

"And you never thought to tell me?"

Andrew was suddenly angry at the woman. It didn't sit right with him that after all they'd been through together that she would lie to him so fiercely about something so powerful.

"I was afraid he'd kill me," she confessed. "I found out a couple months ago that he died. The arse tried to apparate drunk and bled out on his kitchen floor. At that point... I didn't know how to go about things. I didn't know where Aaron was or how to find him or if he was even still alive. Andy, you have to trust me, I never meant for this to happen."

The man took a moment to collect himself. His temper was perhaps his fatal flaw. It's what caused him to write those editorial pieces, it's what caused his first marriage to fall apart, he couldn't let it ruin anything else.

"I trust you with my life, Dee, you know that. This is all a lot to wrap my head around."

"I'll get us something to drink," she said, stepping away and going towards the bar.

Alone with his thoughts, Andy tried to think like his Cordelia. She always saw the bright side of things. Through all this confusion and chaos, Andrew had to remember that his son wasn't dead. The suffocating guilt was slowly going away and things would finally be as they were meant to be.

Aaron was gold in a world full of silver and bronze. He was like springtime and everything else that makes the world whole. To have him back... Andrew was still unsure what it would do. Everyone had been needing a light after almost three years of pain and heartbreak. Aaron was that light. He was everything good in the world embodied in a lanky frame... and he was alive.

Dealla came back with two firewhiskeys and a worried expression.

"How's Aurora?" Was the first thing she asked when she sat back down.

"She goes by Rory now. She's actually teaching at Hogwarts. Just turned twenty-three."

"Wow, I feel absolutely ancient. I remember the day you found out Christine was pregnant with her. How you freaked out on Dumbledore and I had to calm you down... Then you went and helped Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup."

"How am I going to tell her that her brother is alive but won't remember her?" Andrew said. Albeit rude of him to brush off an old friend just trying to reminisce, he couldn't help but worry about her reaction to everything.

"My charms are strong, but not permanent," Dealla nodded. "We can get him back, or at least try."

FOR ONCE, RORY'S LIFE SEEMED NORMAL. It had been a while since any tragedy occurred in her life. Well, that was untrue. George blacked out on New Year's Eve and was admitted to St Mungo's that night. It turned out his drinking had been on the fritz since September, he had just been better at hiding it until Rory's party. He wanted to treat New Year's Eve as one last hurrah before he started seeing someone about it but he took it too far and ended up in Wizard rehab.

More formally known as St Mungo's Herbert Limmony Inpatient Rehabilitation Facility. It turned out that even before the war a lot of Wizards had problems with addiction with all sorts of things from magical herbs to Muggle drugs to alcohol (in George's case). He was still in there, but by his letters, it seemed to be working well for him.

Yes, he was sending letters to Rory from rehab. They were mending things. Everyone was healing, including Rory. Every new year she had a strange hopeful feeling that she was finally going to find herself and achieve all of her life goals that year. It seemed more possible than ever now.

She had to start the year on a rocky foot for another reason. That reason was about five foot eleven and dashingly handsome yet cocky and pretentious. That reason was her date with Cassius. Rory was a woman of her word and he was also very curious as to what he was going to cook up for her.

"Are you seriously wearing that?"

Rory, who had been cooped up in her office doing work for a few hours, looked up to see the ghost of Fred smiling at her.

"No," she rolled her eyes. "Would you like to pick out an outfit for my fake date?"

"It's not a fake date," he said, floating towards her. "It's a real date with your fake boyfriend."

"What do you think I should — Oh! Hello Cassius!"

"Hope I'm not interrupting," he said softly. "Are you ready?"

"Not at all... to both of those things, sorry. Where are we going?"

"My place," he said.

"Whoaaaaaa!" Fred grinned. "Have fun you two!" He floated away out of the room and left the pair alone.

Rory giggled awkwardly, "Sorry about him. What should I wear?"

"Nothing, darling," he winked. "You can dress however you'd like. What you're in now is more than okay. I'm actually taking you to my favorite place in Cambridge but what you're wearing is perfect."

"Alright," Rory nodded. "Although I do feel a bit frumpy in my teacher clothes."

Cassius raised an eyebrow, "Frumpy? You look ravishing."

Why was Rory blushing? Cassius was a pest in her already annoying life. She didn't want to go catch feelings for him just because he was "charming". Whatever, she didn't want to think about it. However, that was going to be hard considering they were about to go on the date.

"Why thank you, Professor Torres." She said cheekily.

"Save that kind of talk for later tonight, love."

"If you insist."

Cassius grinned, "It's nice to see you playing nice for once."

Rory shrugged, "It's what the old Rory would do."

Rory had never really been to Cambridge. It felt like a storybook town. As Rory walked, passing the buildings, she got the feeling that the city would disappear the next day, like it was never real to begin with and was all just decoration. The winter snow littering her path did not help discourage her fantasy and only made the place seem more mythical.

She was walking down a cobblestone road with her hands stuffed in her coat pocket. Cassius was next to her, obviously.

Rory wasn't nervous at all. However, he seemed to be.

"So where exactly are we going?" Rory asked.

"Where do you want to go?"

She scoffed, "Would you like it if I dropped your arse in the middle of London and asked you to pick a first date spot? Didn't think so."

He stopped walking so she stopped walking. She looked at him with a crooked smile as a group of University students stumbled into the pub next to them.

"You haven't told me what you had planned," Rory said simply.

"Maybe I have nothing planned," he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and turned forward, continuing her walk as he was still standing. The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes, but with a smile still.

It took him a second to catch up to her. "Rory, I was only joking!" He said.

"Well, you really need to work on your stand up routine then," she giggled. "This is my first date in years since my boyfriend went and died on me and you think it's funny to play me like that?"

"Yes, obviously," he said in a teasing tone. "Anyway, we're here."

Rory stopped walking and looked up at the building in front of them. On the awning was written in cursive, Saint Andrew's Bookshop.

"Did you know Saint Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland?" Rory said.

"That's quite interesting, tell me all about it," Cassius smiled.

"He's also the patron saint of singers, spinsters, maidens, fishmongers, fishermen, women who want to be mothers, gout and sore throats." She explained proudly as he held the door open for her. When she stepped into the bookshop, she was stunned. She felt like Belle in that one scene in Beauty and the Beast where the Beast shows her his library. In her head, she said, "I can't believe it! I've never seen so many books in all my life!"

They were everywhere, stacked from the floor to nearly the ceiling in disheveled yet organized piles. There were a set of dark wooden steps towards the back that led to a sort of loft that appeared to have a coffee shop connected. It was perfect. Miscellaneous rug littered the floor she walked on as she and Cass went deeper into the shop.

"This place is amazing," she whispered.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, softly touching the small of her back to lead her where he wanted them to go. It was a fairly quiet shop, no one was really there since it was a Friday night. The only sound was the record player by the till humming soft jazz music.

"Like it? I want to live here!"

"I'm so glad. I was here the other day doing some writing, and I thought... Rory would absolutely fucking adore this place. Since you're only letting me take you out as part of our deal I figured I at least try to make it enjoyable."

"That's really sweet," Rory smiled softly. "I want to pick out a book but I don't even know where to start."

"How about... I find you one you might like and you find me one, yeah?" He suggested.

Rory nodded, "Brilliant. This way I'll know if you actually know me or just pretend to."

"That's a lot of pressure."

She shrugged, "Deal with it, Torres."

He cracked a handsome smile, and they parted ways to search for a perfect book. She liked the fact that even if they were on a date; they stepped away from one another to be alone. It made her feel independent in a way, which was something she valued a lot.

Cassius had so many books in his home that Rory wasn't sure what his collection was lacking. So, she ended up picking out a couple. They crossed paths in the historical fiction section. In Cass' arms were also several books, both paperback and hardcover.

"I couldn't pick just one," he shrugged.

"Me neither," she chuckled, "I wasn't sure which ones you already had so I got some back ups."

"Want to get some coffee and unveil them to each other upstairs?"

She nodded, "Absolutely. Can you guess my coffee order?"

"Can you guess mine? Last I checked I'm not a legilimist." He paused, "Is it like a caramel latte with non-fat milk? You just look like you'd down a caramel latte with non-fat milk."

"Wow. You know, I'm impressed, Mister dark roast with two sugars and one cream."

He leaned in, "It's actually one sugar, two creams, love." He walked off, heading up the steps to the coffee shop. She followed him and they found a small table in the dimly lit corner. They set down their books, and he bought them their coffee.

"Okay... I'll go first," Rory smiled. "Before I begin I wanted to let you know I was about to grab The Taming of the Shrew because I thought it can serve as a handbook if you're going to continue to try to woo me but I know you already have it so I didn't. Moving on. First, I got you Poems Written in Youth from William Wordsworth." She handed him the small black book.

"Next, I got you And Then There Were None because you deserve to be spooked. And finally, I got you this little journal so you can write beautiful poems about my breasts in French or something."

He smiled and accepted the books. "Why thank you, Miss Archer. These are all excellent selections. I'll be sure to fill my new journal with all sorts of breast-related poetry."

She felt accomplished.

"I actually got you a little journal as well so you can write about your own breasts because despite the fact I have yet to see them — you speak about them very highly."

He handed her a small plum-colored journal that was bound in a suede material. She would be sure to use it for its intended purpose.

"I found this book sort of at random. I'd never heard of it before. It's not a classic, shocker, I know. It was only published a year ago, but I flipped through and thought you'd like it." On the table, he set down a novel with orange words scribbled from top to bottom and two small photo booth pictures printed in the corner. In black lettering, sticking out against the orange, read the words The Perks of Being a Wallflower and then Stephen Chbosky.

"How nice," she smiled, knowing it would be first on her list to read.

"I did get you a classic, though, don't worry. Emma by Jane Austen because she's my favorite. I also had to snag this little pocket book on flower species for you, for no particular reason really."

Rory blushed. For some reason, she thought there was something very romantic about him getting her a book by his favorite writer. Also, the flower book was very sweet as well. Cassius was a thoughtful man. She was beginning to worry that maybe she didn't resent him as much as she wanted to. Getting close to people was something she dreaded but maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

a/n:
fun little chapter to show how out of the loop rory is abt everything!! also i hope u love dealla as much as me <33