I stare at all of the dresses that I've laid out on my bed. I've been looking at them for a half hour, trying desperately to figure out which one would be a good choice. Francis has been absolutely no help to me. He just keeps saying that Harry would like me in anything that I'd wear. When I had been preparing for the party, I hadn't really thought about dressing to impress.

Now that I think about it, there's a part of me deep down that wants to get Harry's attention somehow. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to him. Now that we're actually friends and we're spending time together, I'm becoming more and more enticed by him. There's something about him that draws me in.

"Should I straighten my hair or let the curls run wild?" I ask as I turn to look at Francis. He's currently lazing around on my bed with his favourite Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal of mine resting on his lap.

"You don't have enough time to straighten your hair," he says. "Besides, you look infinitely better with your natural hair.

"You're right," I say, nodding as I run my fingers through my hair. "You know, I've decided not to wear a dress," I add as I push the clothes off the bed and go to my closet.

"Fucking hell, Margaret pick an outfit already," Francis groans. "You know what? I think you should wear those silver see through leggings. That'll really impress Harry."

"But the only blouse that really goes with them is see through and I can't wear a bra with it," I groan as I go take out the leggings as well as the offending blouse.

"I see no problem with that," he replies. "And we both know Harry wouldn't mind."

"But I don't want it to seem like I'm trying too hard," I say with a frown. "Besides, this isn't—"

"For the millionth time, Meg, Harry is one hundred percent into you. You could wear a trash bag and he'd still think you look beautiful. Hell, even I think you'd look beautiful in that. If you're not comfortable wearing what I suggested, then that's okay. We've still got a half hour before he shows up," he says calmly as he gets off my bed.

"No, I'll go with the leggings and blouse," I say hastily. "Hopefully I won't look 'desperate'," I add, motioning for him to turn around as I take my shirt off.

"You won't, Meg," Francis says patiently as his back faces me. "You're acting like you've never been on a date before."

"This isn't a date," I say as I narrow my eyes at the back of his head. I carefully pull on the leggings and make sure that the fabric isn't caught on any edges from my fake leg. "You can turn around now," I add.

"Shit, you look great," he says, eyeing me up and down.

(A/N: I get it, y'all don't like this outfit. You don't have to. I like it, so I'm keeping it)

"Harry's going to shit bricks when he sees you."

"That's quite an image."

"Oh lighten up, will you?" Francis says as he comes over to pinch my side. "Let's go downstairs. I want you to have some food before you go off to the party."

"Geez, you sound like my father," I grumble as I grab my phone and follow him downstairs. He chuckles in response and he pulls out a can of peanuts and tosses it over to me. While he talks to me, I go through my phone, checking to see if I have any messages. Right as I turn my phone off, I see that Harry has texted me.

Harry: hiiiiiiiiiii :)

Harry: I'll be over really soon to pick you up 😏

Me: Is that emoji supposed to be there?

Harry: I was hoping that you wouldn't notice

Me: Why are you so bad at texting?

Harry: My thumbs are big, sue me

Me: pobre bebé 👶🏻👶🏻

Harry: yo no soy un bebé 😤😡😠😾🙅🏻‍♂️

I can't stop smiling as Harry and I continue texting. He keeps messing up emojis, though sometimes I swear he's doing it on purpose.

"Hey, stop paying attention to Styles...you should be paying attention to me," Francis whines as he wave s his hand in front of the phone screen. "You're spending the night to him, so the least you could do is—"

"Are you seriously playing the clingy friend card?" I ask as I put my phone away once Harry says that he's heading over to my place. "I never thought I'd see the day that Francis James Campbell would turn into that guy," I add as I toss a peanut at him. He easily bats it away and rolls his eyes at me.

"Just don't forget little old me when you and Harry get together," he says. Despite the teasing tone, I know that he's being serious.

"You know I'd never just drop you, right?" I ask, frowning. "Friends until the very end, remember?"

"I was just checking," Francis says with a shy smile. He comes over to my side and gives me a tight hug. "I think that's Harry," he adds when there's a knock on my door. I hastily pull away from him check my hair in the hallway mirror before and pull up my shirt when I see that I'm showing off a little too much cleavage. Then I take a deep breath and go to open the door. Harry's standing on my front porch and my eyes widen when I see that he's holding a small bouquet of daisies. He stands a little straighter and clears his throat before holding the flowers out.

"I uh, these are for you," he says shyly as I take them from his outstretched hand. His green eyes scan up and down my body and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. "You look amazing," he adds, his cheeks reddening.

"Thank you," I say, smiling hesitantly at him. "You look great too," I add as I see that he's wearing a black shirt, black jeans and dark brown boots. He's even wearing a dark green headscarf. We stare at each other for several long moments, the both of us are taking  in each other's appearances and I feel my heart race.

"Look, I hate to ruin the mood, but you're letting the warm air out," Francis says as he suddenly pops his head out the doorway.

"Right, sorry," Harry says as he clears his throat. "I um, lets go, Meg," he adds as he holds his hand out. Francis holds his hand out and I roll my eyes at him as I hand the flowers over to him.

"I want her back by one," Francis says. "If she comes back with so much as a scratch, then we're going to need to have a very serious talk."

"Could you stop being an ass for one second?" I ask as I roll my eyes at him.

"I'm an ass all the time, Meg. I just happen to tone it down around you," he says. "Now, before you two go, I want a picture of you."

"Geez, you're acting like my parents," I say as Harry slowly wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me to his side as Francis pulls out his phone.

"Be glad that they're working right now and I'm the one to see you off," he quips back. "If they knew you were going out with Harry, they wouldn't stop crying and would take a million photos."

"You're right," I say. "Sorry about this, Harry," I add, looking up at the boy who's arm is still wrapped tightly around me.

"I don't mind at all," he replies, giving me a wide smile.

"Alright, smile you two," Francis says as he opens the camera app. I lean closer to Harry's side and as the picture is being taken, I suddenly feel very lightheaded. I close my eyes at this and try and find my center of balance before opening them again. "Wow, that was actually a really good photo. I should become a professional photographer," he says as he looks at the photos.

"Can you please send them to me?" Harry asks. "And we should probably get going. People are going to start showing up at my place soon."

"Yeah, yeah, have fun you two," Francis says as he waves the two of us away. I say a quiet goodbye, and I'm glad that he didn't seem to notice what had just happened. If he had, he most likely would have made me stay home.

"I like Francis," Harry says as he opens the passenger seat for me. He closes it when I sit inside and he rushes over to the drivers seat. "He really cares about you, it's sweet."

"We've been friends forever," I say, smiling reminiscently. The first memory that I have of him was when we were at my house when we were about three. I had been a little taller than him at the time and we discovered that if I stood on his back, I'd be able to get the jar of cookies that was on the counter. We'd sneak them all the time, not knowing that our parents had been watching us the whole time.

"The longest friend that I've had is a guy named Niall," Harry says as he pulls away. "He moved back to Ireland a few years ago but we still keep in touch, and he's been thinking about going back to the states for university."

"That's amazing," I say with a small smile. We spend the rest of the ride over talking about our friends. He listens attentively as I talk about some of the things Francis and I have done and I love when he talks about him and Niall. I can tell that he really cares for his friend and it's nice to know that he at least has someone who's not apart of his family that cares about him.

"Welcome to my humble abode," Harry says as we pull into his driveway. His house is a modest one. It's decently sized, and has a beautiful brick front with a large wooden patio. There's even a small pond off to the left of the house that I'm sure he uses to swim in when it gets super hot out. I can already see some people milling about the area and as soon as we get out of the car, many people call his name. I feel the light headed feeling coming back but it's not as bad as the last time and I hesitantly follow Harry as he goes inside his home.

"I like it," I say as my eyes scan the wooden interior; it has a homey feel to it. "Is this you when you were younger?" I ask, spotting a framed picture of a small dimpled baby boy. He has a wide, almost toothless grin and I'm surprised to see that he has more blonde hair.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry says, sounding embarrassed. "I looked like an idiot back then."

"No you didn't," I say as I lean in closer to get a better look. "You were quite cute, actually."

"Hopefully I still am," he replies.

"You're still very cute Harry, you don't need to worry about that," I assure him when I finally begin to move away from the photo. He seems pleased with my answer and he pulls me into the kitchen where there seems to be piles upon piles of beer cans. There are stacks of vodka and tequila. "Damn, how much did you spend on this?" I ask with wide eyes.

"I only bought a bottle of tequila and vodka. People have brought the rest," he shrugs as he hands me a can of beer. I stare at it for a moment, frowning. "Do you not like beer?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I um, I've just never really had alcohol before," I say shyly.

"Really?"

"I've never really been to parties or had a reason to drink. My doctors always advised against alcohol too," I answer. "But I'm fine now, so maybe I can try this out," I add, feeling a little bad for the lie.

"Well, maybe just stick to that one can and we can see how you feel after you finish it," Harry says as he pours himself a shot. "I won't drink that much tonight then, and if at any time you want to leave, then tell me and I'll walk you home," he adds.

"You don't have to do that," I tell him as I open the can. "Oh, this tastes absolutely disgusting," I say, scrunching up my nose as the bitter taste hits my tongue. Harry laughs loudly at this and he leads me through his house. It's much homier than I had previously thought and I can't stop smiling when I see that his parents have a wall that's been completely decorated with various medals and ribbons that Harry got from soccer. He thinks it's embarrassing but I think it's sweet.

By the time we go back downstairs, there are more and more people there. The hallways are much more crowded and loud music is now blaring through speakers. Several people try to drag Harry away to talk but he always remains firmly by my side or has me come with him. Every time this happens, he keeps giving me apologetic looks. I assure him each time that I don't mind and I actually like listen to other people talk. Sometimes they'll include me but I know that they're unsure about it.

"How're you feeling, Meg?" Harry asks, having to lean down and say this into my ear because it's so loud. 

"I'm fine," I say, shivering slightly when I feel his lips graze my ear lobe. "Do you think I could get another drink?" I ask hesitantly as I hold up my empty can. Harry gives me a look, silently asking me if I'm sure. When I nod, he leads me into the kitchen by holding gently onto my wrist.

"I don't want you to drink any more, okay?" Harry asks, sounding concerned. "You may not feel anything now, but it might hit you later and..." he trails off when he realises that he's being a little overprotective but I actually feel flattered that he cares this much.

"I won't drink any more," I say. We stare at each other for a few seconds before a large group of people come into the kitchen. My heart sinks when I see that Emilia, Luke and Carson are here, but I remind myself that Harry probably had to invite them because they're part of the same friend group.

"Harry, there you are!" Emilia says as she happily throws her arms around his torso. She pushes me away in the process and I roll my eyes at her childish behavior. "Shea and I have been looking everywhere for you, where have you been?"

"I've been with Meg," he grumbles as he carefully takes her arms off from around him. "And I don't remember ever inviting you."

"I've always been invited to your parties before, why wouldn't I be now?" she asks arrogantly. "And who the fuck is Meg?" I let out a quiet snort at this, hating that she's grown so used to calling me 'Peggy' that she doesn't even remember my actual name.

"You've stopped being welcome here the moment I found out that you were bullying Meg," Harry snaps as he strolls over to my side. Emilia's eyes widen in shock when she sees me and I feel a flash of fear when I see her lip curl up into a sneer.

"You mean Peggy," she says as she puts her hand on her hips.

"No, I meant Meg," Harry fires back. "You can stay here for this party, but after this one, you're never invited again. Now, if you'll excuse me," he add before grabbing my hand. He doesn't give me any warning before dragging me out of the kitchen and down the hallway. I'm a little surprised when he takes me upstairs to his room, but I relax when he goes to open the window and climbs out onto the roof.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I ask as I hesitantly join him on the roof.

"Of course," he says as he lies on his back. "I do this all the time. The roof is very strong, I promise." I slowly lie beside him after carefully setting the beer can on the windowsill.

"This is so cliché," I say, laughing quietly as my mind goes to all of those cheesy romantic comedies where couples go stare at the stars on rooftops. "But I kind of like it."

"Me too," Harry says. There's a few moments of silence before I feel his fingertips lightly graze my hand. I instinctively turn it over and his fingers tangle with mine. "Can I ask you something serious?" he asks quietly. I can hear the beat of the music from downstairs but I don't pay it any attention.

"Depends on what it is," I say carefully. "What exactly is the question?"

"I wanted to know why you're so willing to just ignore the verbal abuse you get from everyone," he says. "People have called you Peggy for years. I've called you that and yet you never snapped at me or anyone else. You've always held it in and I just can't fathom how you can do that."

"I don't think you'd like the answer very much," I say after a few moments. "Not because of the story, but because of who influenced it."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, the 'who' was my ex boyfriend," I sat quietly as I'm filled with sadness. I feel Harry stiffen at my words but he doesn't pull away. "He's the reason why I'm the way I am. If it wasn't for him, I'd be half the person I am, and I'd probably be dead."

"How could I ever hate this guy then?" Harry asks. "If he meant this much to you, then who am I to get jealous?"

"Jealous?" I ask, smiling slightly.

"Well I don't know if I've made it obvious enough yet, but I like you a lot," he admits. "But enough about me. Would you be willing to talk about this mysterious ex boyfriend? What does he do? What's his name."

"His name was Reed," I answer with a hint of sadness. "He was a student, but he also had a job at the local Ben and Jerry's."

"Why the past tense?"

"He died," I whisper as I feel my bottom lip beginning to quiver.

"Oh," Harry says, sounding guilty.

"When he was fifteen, he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He didn't smoke, but his parents did and somehow, he just..." I say, trailing off as memories of Reed come back to me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. "Anyways, we met shortly after he was diagnosed, his hospital room was right next to mine and we just got super close. He assured me that everything was going to be okay when I had to get my leg cut off. He said that I'd still be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen."

"He's not wrong about that," Harry comments. His words help to lighten the mood slightly and I feel myself blush.

"I got better before he did but I still came to visit him in the hospital. Though neither of us said it at the time, we both knew that he was going to die. That's why we were around each other so much. We wanted to spend however much time we had left together," I continue. "He eventually asked me out when I turned fifteen and he was seventeen. He used his Wish to take me out to Amore, this really fancy Italian restaurant and that's when he told me how much he loved me."

"You can go on if you want," Harry says quietly as his thumb runs over the back of my hand. I had stopped talking as emotions overcame me. I was scared that if I continued talking, Harry would get upset and leave.

"Well, a few days after that, we had gotten the news that he has three weeks left to live," I say as I feel tears beginning to form. "I think he spent more time comforting me than I ever did for him because I was so scared of losing him. I didn't want him to go because I felt that he was the only one that ever understood my experience as a cancer patient. About a week before everything started to go wrong with his health, we had sex. It might have been stupid of us to do that but we couldn't help it. We just wanted to be connected in that way at least once. Six days later, he died."

"I'm so sorry, Meg," Harry says apologetically.

"I miss him so much because he would always know exactly what to say to make me feel better. He had this way of comforting me. When Emilia got the whole school to call me 'Peggy', he held me until I stoped crying," I say with a small and sad smile. "I was always so insecure about my lack of hair or my leg, but he somehow always managed to make me feel like I was whole, that I was beautiful."

"That's because you are, Meg," Harry says. "You are so fucking beautiful and I hate that it's taken me this long to realise it and to act on my feelings." I turn my head to the side, away from him. I don't want him to see my sad expression, especially because I don't think I'll ever be able to allow myself the luxury of being with him.

"Reed always told me that I should never listen to the people who harassed me. They weren't worth my time," I say quietly. "He also told me that when he was gone that I should move on and find someone else, but it's been so hard for me to do that. Not because I'm not over him but because I don't want someone to get attached, and I don't want that to happen to me."

"Why?"

"Because I could die at any moment," I say with a sigh. "I'm a walking time bomb. My cancer can come back one day and I might not survive this time. I don't want someone to get attached and then they have to go through the pain of losing me. That's not fair."

"It's not fair to you to just be alone for the rest of your life," Harry says. "You deserve happiness as much as the next person. You're meant to love and be loved." 

"That makes it sound like you want to be with me," I say.

"That's because I do," he replies. "Sure we haven't been 'friends' for a long time, but I've had a crush on you ever since we did that history assignment."

"Fuck, Francis was right," I groan.

"What?"

"Never mind," I say hastily. "I think we've been away from the party for too long, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but I do quite enjoy talking to you, Meg," Harry says softly. I smile in response and we lay on his roof for a few more minutes before going back inside his room. I didn't realise that I was cold until I'm back inside the warmth. I grab my can of beer and take a small sip of it as I follow Harry downstairs. There seem to be even more people here and I feel Harry's hand grab onto mine so he doesn't lose me.

"Harry, there you are!" several voices say. I see some of his teammates on the soccer team approach and I can already tell that they're very drunk.

"Come talk with us. Celebrate, do something!" one of the taller guys say. I haven't bothered to learn their names since they never bothered to lean mine.

"Sorry guys, but I've promised to not drink and stay by Meg's side," Harry says with a wide grin. His teammates immediately look disappointed but they don't protest.

"It's okay, Harry," I say as I let go of his hand. "You can go off with your friends. I don't mind."

"I don't think I should leave you alone though," he says, frowning.

"I'll just go outside and hang around on the porch," I say. "I'll be fine, I promise."

"Okay," he says. "I'll be back as soon as possible," he adds.

"Thanks, Peggy!" one of the guys says.

"It's Meg," Harry snaps as he walks away with them. "Use her actual name, you dick." I smile at his words and drink the rest of my beer before going into the kitchen to throw it into one of the many trash bags. True to my word, I walk out into the porch and I'm relieved when there aren't a lot of people outside.

The air is still cool and crisp, and it's nice to smell how clean it is. Inside, it smells like cheap alcohol, sweat and weed. I'm still surprised that Harry's parents are allowing their son to do this, but I guess they just really trust him. I smile at the thought and I go sit in one of the chairs. The buzz from the alcohol is just starting to hit me and it's a weird feeling. My limbs feel light and heavy at the same time and the outer edges of my vision are starting to blur.

I don't really see the appeal of getting drunk, especially if you're supposed to feel a hangover the following morning. I don't like the idea of throwing up either, especially because I've done it so much. I guess it'd be fun to drink casually with friends, but I don't have that many. The few that I have are either too sick or just don't seem to be the type. They're really the only people that I'd want to 'drink casually' with, even if I could do it with Francis and Harry.

I become so engrossed in my own thoughts that I don't notice several people approaching me until they're right in front of me. I immediately recognise Emilia, Shea, Luke and Carson. There are a few other people as well, but I haven't bothered to learn who they are. I can tell from their eyes that they're high as well as drunk and I feel a little uneasy when I see their expressions, especially Emilia.

"Uh, hello," I say as I bite my lip. I need to figure out a way to get out of this situation because I have a feeling that I know where this is going. I slowly stand and wince as the light headed feeling comes back. "Is there something--"

"You humiliated me," Emilia says as she takes a step forward. "Somehow, you've managed to get Harry under your pathetic spell and--"

"I hate to break it to you, but you humiliated yourself," I say as I raise an eyebrow at her. "Maybe if you weren't such a shitty person, he'd actually like you."

"You don't get to speak to me like that, Peggy," Emilia snarls. Her hand moves upwards and the next thing I feel is a sharp sting on my cheek.

"Hey, maybe we should back off," Shea says quietly, her brown eyes widening at what her friend had just done.

"What, don't like being talked down to?" I ask as I feel my anger rising. "It's a shitty feeling isn't it? Imagine having to live with that every day."

"You deserve it," she snaps, her frustration getting the better of her as she tries slapping me again.

"For what? Being alive?" I scoff as I push her away from me and start to make my exit. I don't make it very far because Carson and Luke block my way. A second later, I feel myself being pushed to the ground. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I shout as I feel someone's body on mine. I manage to turn my body around and I see that Emilia is the one who tackled me to the ground. Around her, Shea looks torn and the other people have pulled out their phones while laughing.

"I won't stand for pathetic people like you stealing my friends, and my best friend's guy," she snarls as she starts pulling at my hair while repeatedly hitting my sides.

"Harry was never your friend, you dense asshole," I shout as I try pushing her off me. "Just stop, please," I groan as the pain begins to settle in.

"Emilia, you need to stop " Shea says. "I didn't ask you to do this. It's not her fault that Harry doesn't like me any more, it's mine," she adds as she tries to pull her friend off of me.

"Get your hands off me Shea," Emilia screams. I know now that there's no way that I'm going to escape this. Even though she's very intoxicated, she's still strong enough to hold me down. It doesn't help that I'm also feeling very weak right now.

"She's gone crazy," Shea says before running back inside the house. I can only hope that she's trying to get someone to help me because all of these bystanders certainly won't do anything.

"I'm taking your fucking leg," Emilia snarls as she raises her hand and hits me one last time before leaning back.

"No, stop!" I scream as tears start to run down my cheeks. I try harder to fight against her but it's almost as if my body has shut down because I can barely move. My eyes are squeezed shut as I feel my prosthetic leg being pulled away. "Please, just--" I stop talking when it's pulled away from me completely. Emilia lets out a gleeful laugh as she gets off me, holding my prosthetic leg in the air.

"We got it!" she laughs.

"Emilia, I don't think this is a good idea anymore," Luke says uneasily as I slowly sit up. My limbs are shaking and I immediately try to stand, even though I know that I'm missing my left leg. I immediately sway on the spot but manage to hop on the spot as I try to grab my leg from Emilia. She easily moves away and I let out a quiet sob when I fall backwards, hitting my head on the ground.

"Please give me my leg back," I plead as save myself more embarrassment by just crawling in her direction.

"Emilia, do it," Luke says. "This isn't funny anymore." Before anyone can do anything, I watch as she throws my prosthetic to her left, and my heart sinks when I hear a splashing noise. I had seen a pond when I had first arrived here and I feel myself lose all hope.

"If she wants it so bad, she better go and get it," Emilia taunts. My bottom lip is trembling as I look up at her and I take a deep breath before forcing myself to crawl down the patio steps.

"Oh my god, I think that she's actually going to try and get it," I hear someone say.

"Of fucking course I'm going to get it!" I scream at them. "That's my leg. I need it to fucking walk." I continue crawling until I'm at the edge of the pond and I try to go through my memories of how to swim with one leg. I've only ever did it a small handful of times. I always had help or a floaty near by just in case. I'm just going to be quick because no one is going to come and save me. Not this time.

"Meg, wait!" a voice yells just as I force myself to slip into the very cold water. I can't touch the bottom of the pond and my body immediately freezes.

"Shit that's cold," I groan as I try and move my way through the water. My head keeps going under the water and my lungs are burning. The only good thing to come out of this is the fact that I've managed to grab my prosthetic leg. Suddenly, I feel arm wrap around my waist and I'm being dragged out of the water. I immediately begin coughing up water as I lay on the grass, shivering.

"Why would you go into the water?" Harry coughs as he looks at me, water dripping off his hair and body. "Meg, are you oka--"

"Don't," I snap as I wring my hair, trying to get as much water out as possible. "I am not okay, and I'm going home," I continue as I stiffly try to put the prosthetic back on. The thing is, because I'm wearing leggings, my job is made that much harder because it won't fit properly. I need the padding and that's currently stuck to my leg inside my leggings.

"I can take you," Harry says. "Just wait one moment," he adds darkly before getting up. I lay back and let the tears fall as I listen to the music suddenly go out. There are lots of groans and shouts and soon I hear people filing out of the house. I can hear Harry yelling at the top of his lungs for people to 'get the hell out'. A few minutes later, he comes running out to me. He easily picks me up and my body leans into his chest.

"Why aren't you taking me home?" I ask shakily.

"I'm getting you dry clothes first," Harry says. He lays me down on a bed and I realise that it's his. I curl into a ball and remain that way until he comes back over to me with a pile of clothes and a towel. He sets them beside me. "I'll be right outside the door if you need me. Just call my name and I'll be here," he says sadly before leaving his room and closing the door. I continue curled up in a ball for a few seconds before slowly stretching my limbs out. I slowly peel my wet clothes off my body before running the towel over my body.

I inspect the clothes that Harry brought. It's his own clothes and I put his boxers on and slide his shirt over my head before taking the padding for my leg and sliding it on my stump. I put the prosthetic back on and I instantly feel calmed when I'm able to stand properly. I slide on his sweatpants, put my socks and shoes back on and dry my hair as much as possible before opening Harry's door.

"Listen Meg, I'm so sorry about what happened. I shouldn't have left your side. I should have--"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," I say bitterly. "It's not your fault."

"But--"

"Harry, please just take me home," I say as I feel lightheaded again. "I need to just sleep this off. I'll be fine, I always am."

"Okay," Harry sighs. He silently leads me downstairs and into his car. The whole ride home, is silent. I see him look over at me a few times but doesn't dare say anything.

"I'll see you around, Harry," I say dully when he pulls up to my house. I see Francis walk out with a wide smile but it drops when he sees my appearance.

"I really am sorry, Meg," Harry says guiltily.

"It's not okay, but this wasn't your fault," I say as I get out of his car. "I'll try and call you later, okay?"

"Okay."