𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter eighteen; Witch Trials In The Dark
" Everything is different now. "

  "HEADING OUT ALREADY?" Roman asked, wiping down a glass before stashing it beneath the bar.

  Salem was gathering her things, stacking books atop one another from the end of the booth, she halted to face the man as he approached her in the empty pub.

  "Yeah," She sighed, "Sirius offered to save a seat for me at dinner— it'd be a shame if he did that for nothing."

  "Are you two. . . uh. . ."

  "We're just friends," Salem laughed at Roman's clear discomfort.

  "Seemed pretty close not too long ago."

  "We both need a bit of comfort," She attempted to explain, "But, um, we're not dating. We're not going to date."

  Roman nodded as the girl continued to pack up.

  "Oh, by the way," The man clapped, "Rosy found a box beneath the bar— we didn't open it 'cause I assumed it was yours. And, I dunno, maybe I should've snooped, being, you know. . ."

  "Being?"

  "Being your dad and all," Roman finished, waving his hand, "Uh—"

  "Oh—"

  "No, sorry, it was weird, right?"

  "I dunno—"

  "I've been wondering about the whole 'dad' thing, honestly, you still call me Roman—"

  "I can call you 'Dad'—"

  "Not if it'll make you uncomfortable—"

  "It wouldn't—"

  "You seem uncomfortable already."

  Salem let out a long breath, her shoulders falling from their tense state which made Roman chuckle lightly.

  "It'll take getting used to," She admitted, "I've never called anyone 'Dad' before."

  "I've never been called 'Dad' before," He countered, "But you're a great kid and it'd mean the world, I suppose."

  Salem smiled. Genuinely. It felt good knowing that Roman wasn't just owning up to it, being a father, that it wasn't out of guilt or wasted time or fear— he wanted to be her dad. To check up on her and go on Valentine's day dates that consisted of nothing much other than deciphering the difficult ramblings of Carl Sandberg and eating kettle corn.

  It was nice to feel wanted.

  "Anyway, your box," Roman cleared his throat, striding back behind the bar and retrieving the hatbox that hid so many secrets, "Figure you didn't want ole' Rosy to snoop on you."

  Salem didn't want to take it. She didn't want the weight of the world to be on her hands, considering it was already on her shoulders, but Roman was holding the box outstretched and it seemed as though the box itself was reaching for her, too, and Salem didn't have any choice.

  Except, her fingertips brushed gently cloth and silk just as the bell above the door jingled, and Salem jolted as Roman let go and down went the box, toppling onto the hard floor— out spilling secrets that had built up over nearly two months. 

  And as Salem glanced at the door, finding a red-faced, messy-haired James Potter— who was slightly out of breath— standing in the doorway, she panicked.

  "Sal—"

  "Shit, shit—" Salem cursed, dropping to her hands and knees quickly, scrambling to pull all of the words back into the box before James himself came much closer, "Hold on—"

  "Sorry," James and Roman said at the same time, silence lulling as the girl, now breathing quicker than a snitch's wings fluttered, fumbled for the box.

  "Here, let me help," James said quickly.

  "No, it's fine," Salem tried, her hands working quicker now— but the notes, the notes had a mind of their own and they played hide and seek, slipping between her fingers, dancing on the ground like they had nothing to hide from, "Really, it's fine, don't—"

  James was already on the ground, he was already smiling at her and scraping the papers up too— he was already holding the secrets.

  And then, because James had always been too nosy for his own good, he looked at it. A handful of notes, he glanced at the paper— recognizing his own writing.

  Salem had stopped. Her breathing was still at a pace too quick, eyes starting to feel as though they'd flood at any good moment, hands resting on her thighs knowing there was no stopping it now because James was reading the secrets with his scrunched eyebrows, his eyes rapidly jumping from one to another behind the wire-frame glasses.

  "You," James finally spoke, his eyes tearing away from the confession he'd scrawled about heartache to the girl herself, "You're. . ."

  "No, no," Salem denied instinctually, "She was keeping them here, I was keeping them for her—"

  "Who is she, then?"

  Salem froze for a moment.

  "I can't tell you that, but it's not me, Potter."

  And then everything fell together. How his surname slipped from her tongue like a bittersweet symphony, how she'd never called him anything but this, how she was just as broken as Mystery Girl and had the very same view on herself.

  How she'd told him the girl wasn't enough, when she was the girl herself.

  "Should I give you two some space?"

  Salem looked up to Roman, who was worriedly staring down at the teens.

  "No, there's nothing—"

  "If you could," James cut her off, looking to Roman with an even expression, "I would appreciate it more than you know."

  "Sure," Roman said quieter, nodding before he disappeared into the back.

  And Salem did nothing as James continued to scan the notes, one by one letting them rest in the circle box.

  "Potter?" Salem's voice broke from her attempt at quiet, "Say something."

  "I don't— I don't know what to say, Sal," James said once the very last note was back in the box, he let himself sit fully onto the floor as he was out of energy to hold himself up, "It's you."

  She didn't confirm this, but James didn't need that.

  "I'm just," James spoke again, "I'm trying to figure out how I was falling for you twice— at the same time."

  "What?"

  "I was falling for my Mystery Girl," He mumbled, twisting his hands, "And I felt guilty— Merlin, Sal, I felt so fucking guilty— because I started. . . I just wanted to be around you, the real you. I wanted to play football and drink butterbeer and. . . but it's you, it's all you."

  She bit the inside of her cheek.

  "Why?" He finally asked the question Salem knew was coming, "Was it— was it revenge? For third year? Were you going to blackmail me—"

  "Do you think that low of me?" She cut off, making James look at her— really look at her, his own brown eyes melting into hers to form the perfect color of the earth after it rains, "That I'd take advantage of someone as hurt as you were?"

  "All I know about you is different now," James realized, "Everything is different now."

  And Salem Gerard, Witch Trials in the flesh— the fires that had taken down so many witches reborn into a girl with the world at her feet— was scared. It didn't take a genius to figure out she hated change, she ran from it like a child in the dark, fumbling for a light switch to engulf them in safety.

  "No, it's not."

  She had to find the light switch. The safety. She didn't want anything to change, because it would change for the worse. She'd said it hours prior— James could never love a girl like her.

  He couldn't because he deserved the world, and Salem had always felt like an insignificant speck of dirt on the blue orb they called home.

  "Nothing's changed," Salem repeated herself, momentarily numb to the pain flashing in James' eyes.

  And without another word, Salem Gerard walked out.

  She disregarded her jacket, her school books, she left the secrets that were far from secrets, and the boy she was too scared to love in pursuit of something, anything, that would make her feel better.

  But, as Salem hit the end of Hogsmeade, staring Hogwarts in the eye, she realized there was nothing. 

  Eating dinner with Sirius wouldn't mend the hurt, neither would crafting an apology for Dottie or Lily. She could swallow the remaining Firewhisky in her trunk, beneath the denim jacket and worn-in tees, but it would do nothing to dull her pain. 

  No person, place, or thing in the world could fix Salem Gerard if she just kept running.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
I'm not even gonna lie to you
I'm hella fucking proud of 
this chapter, and the next
one. They may very well be
my favorite chapters of this
entire book.
-- also, merry Christmas Eve
to all those who celebrate!
Maybe I'll update again tomorrow,
since the chapter is pre-written?