"Regrets, I've Had A Few"
Disclaimer: After 28 Harry Potter fics, I regret to say that I still do not own Harry Potter and co.
A/N: A very warm welcome to my new beta, strawberrimelon! Thanks girl, you did great on this!
"Regrets, I've had a few; but then again, too few to mention."
"My Way", Frank Sinatra
"You're sleeping with Lorcan, aren't you?" He had asked her one night when he could no longer stand all the rumours and looks of pity the others were sending him.
She gave him a pointed look, "No."
No explanation, no reassurance. Just 'no'.
He blew up right there and then for some reason that he could never understand. He broke up with her and started packing. She stopped him, telling him that she would move instead.
He let her, confident that she would come back, apologising.
She always did.
He regretted.
Not that he ever told anyone about it, but he regretted everything that went terribly wrong that day.
He regretted saying those impulsive words.
He regretted leaving her.
He regretted making her tears fall for him when her back turned.
He regretted thinking that she would automatically come back to him.
Because she didn't.
It had been three weeks.
For the first few days, he had just thought that she was still angry and sore over him.
'She would come back.' He had reassured himself.
When she still hadn't after a week, he grew irritated, frustrated. Anyone who had dared to cross his path at that time would have to suffer his wrath. Even at work, his colleagues gave him weird, sympathising looks. He hated it.
Then when it was well over two weeks, he knew that she wasn't coming back. If you had asked him how he knew, he wouldn't have been able to answer you properly.
He had been looking at a muggle photograph of them both. It was taken during their last year at Hogwarts. He had just won the Quidditch Cup and they were both in the pitch. She was laughing, he was looking at her.
They were the Hogwarts Golden Couple, he the Head Boy and she the Head Girl. They were an unlikely couple, yes, but they were in love and happy.
He suddenly felt empty, lonely, lost... And dread. That was how he knew that she wasn't coming back.
He regretted thinking it was just a phase of hers.
He regretted not apologising.
He regretted not doing anything, anything at all to try to save their relationship.
He had been beaten up, by various people, after that fateful day (he first one being her brother, the next being her father, then he was hexed by various family members), and he just let them beat him up. No wands, no defence, nothing.
And he was actually proud to say that it was something that he had never regretted.
"OPEN UP! Open the damned door now or I swear to Merlin that I would beat you up so badly that your mother wouldn't even recognise you." Her brother's familiar voice drifted into his apartment where he was sitting, staring at the walls.
Pointing his wand to the door, he muttered, "Alohamora."
The wizard outside marched in furiously, "You bastard," he growled, grabbing him by the collar, "I told you to treat her well. I told you not to hurt her. I fucking warned you. How could you do this to her?"
He starred into the eyes of his assaulter levelly and returned, "She chose to end it like this."
And he was beaten up so horribly that he couldn't walk. If his mother hadn't come to visit him, he would have probably been dead.
After that, both their families were in literal chaos. Her brother, her cousins, they all cursed his name. Their mothers couldn't look at each other straight in the eye, both feeling guilty about what happened. Both their fathers had already been enemies to begin with, and now...
He had no choice: he had to leave. It was the only way to salvage their family's fragile truce.
So he moved to France where both his paternal grandparents were now staying.
And although they had welcomed him with open arms and he was coddled really much by his Grandmother Narcissa, he regretted it because he felt so foreign in a place where nothing reminded him of her.
"You're moving?" His best friend, the only person from her family who would talk to him right now, was asking.
"Stop talking and come help me pack."
"Why?"
"Because to move out of this place which I've already sold, first I have to pack up all my stuff-"
"Stop trying to be a smartass. It doesn't work for you. Trust me on that."
"Then what?" He shot back, irritated. All he wanted to do was to move out as fast as humanly possible.
This place -his apartment, the whole of Wizarding England to be exact- was too full of memories. Everywhere he was, he could think about her. Everything he saw, he connected to her. It was killing him.
He considered apologising, and he was so damned close to it too. But his pride wouldn't let him do it. He had left St. Mungo, where she was working, with a bouquet of roses, a box of chocolates: all of which he had thrown into the nearest dustbin.
"Why are you moving? What happened between the both of you? What can be so serious that you want to move?"
"Everything."
He came back. Two years after the incident, having spent two long years away from her, he came back for Christmas.
Their mothers were once again friends, her family had accepted him again, their fathers once again in a truce.
Everything was back to normal now.
Except for one thing...
She was officially dating Lorcan Scamander now.
And seeing her so close to him, he felt twinges of jealousy, pain, regret.
She had been invited back for a huge Christmas party organised by her grandmother. He couldn't refuse her because she was as much a grandmother to him as she was to her.
But as he was sitting, sulking away in a dark little corner of the house, with only Albus to accompany him, he wondered if the physical pain he would receive from Molly would be better than sitting here and feeling like an idiot.
If that wasn't bad enough, she had come in, hand in hand with the very reason they broke up two years ago: Lorcan Scamander, the only person in the world that he hated enough to curse every morning when he woke up.
And he was being such a good boyfriend that shehadn't even noticed his existence yet.
"Merry Christmas." He whispered, just loud enough for her to hear as she walked by. She froze in her step, effectively halting Lorcan too.
"Love, are you okay?" He asked. She nodded.
And then she just walked away, snuggling closer to Lorcan, just like he never existed.
But of all the things he did, cornering her in her father's old bedroom in the house on that Christmas Eve had to be the stupidest.
And he regretted it too.
Because she had confirmed his worse fears: that she would have forgiven him if he had asked for her forgiveness.
For the past two years, he had learnt to pretend that she would have still shot him down even if he went to apologise. It made it easier for him to try to forget about her by telling himself that it would have never worked out.
But that night, all the walls he had successfully built up in the past two years just crumbled down.
He was quite drunk. Not so drunk that he couldn't think, not so sober that he could think properly. Just quite drunk. So there was no way he could believe that it was just the firewhiskey that had muddled up his brains.
They were dancing, Lorcan and her of course, by the moonlight in the garden to the slow song that was playing. He had asked Albus to lure Lorcan away. He had told him that he just needed a moment with her, to clear things up.
And Merlin bless him, he did. Although doubtful, he told Lorcan something about needing to ask him something that was a "men only" problem.
And then he did it. He took hold of her wrist and led her into the house, into her father's old bedroom.
"Why?" He had so many things to say to her. He had so many questions to ask her. But in the end, only one single syllable managed to get out of his lips. It didn't make much sense to him, even in his half drunken stupor, but somehow she understood him.
"Because I needed to move on. I loved you. It might seem corny, but I'd always guessed that we'd end up together. And when we were together... Those were the happiest days of my life. I missed you. I really did."
"Then why, why didn't you come back?" His head was spinning, not because of the whiskey, but because of her words. She'd used 'loved', past tense. Not love. Not anymore.
"You have to understand! You accused me of sleeping with Lorcan-" She started.
"That is what you are doing now." He muttered darkly, interrupting her, but she went on as if he never said anything.
"We've broken up for two years. For more than eighteen months, I was waiting for you. I held on to the hope that you would come around. That you would realise that I love you. That you would realise that you need me."
"I do, I do..." He said firmly though it was marred by his slight slur. The firewhiskey was starting to take its effect on him.
"But you never came..." Her voice was a whisper in the silent night, "Lorcan was always there for me. He let me cry on his shoulder when you left England. He treats me wonderfully. He loves me with his heart and soul. He wouldn't break my heart. Everyone expected me to end up with him... So I decided that since you weren't coming back, why not give Lorcan a chance?"
He opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off, "But even when we were a couple, I still couldn't love him fully. I was still thinking about you. You who broke my heart, you who left me, you who weren't coming back..."
"You could have told me, you could have tried to contact me. I would have come back. If I knew you would forgive me, I would come back, believe me. I love you." He was sure that this bordered on begging, but he was too desperate to care about that.
"And I love you too. If you had been a few months earlier, I would have floated right back into your arms. No questions, no qualms... But I can't do this to Lorcan now. I love you. Always have, always will. But we can't be together. There's just too much history-"
And then he had kissed her.
After so long of abstinence, kissing her was the best thing that could happen to him right at that moment. Their bodies melded together, their tongues battling for control, her hand fisting his hair, his arms all around her.
She had felt like heaven against him.
And then she had pulled away, "You'll always have a special place in my heart, but... I'm sorry."
And she left him.
Again.
For a very long time, he had berated himself about not going after her. She might have wanted him to do so. She might have been persuaded to stay with him.
Instead, he had just let her slip from him again.
For the next few days, he had drowned himself in firewhiskey and plenty of French scotch, trying to numb himself.
And for that, he regretted.
Because if he had stayed for Christmas, he would have witness Lorcan asking for her hand in marriage. He would have seen that she wavered for a moment before nodding. He would have noticed that her eyes were searching silently for him.
Two and a half weeks since that fateful kiss.
Two and a half weeks since he had been so utterly miserable, so utterly lost.
Two and a half weeks since he had started drinking alcohol like it was breathing.
And now the knocks on the door were making his head seem like it was being trampled by herds of hippogriffs. He didn't want to answer it. He didn't want to be bothered. He didn't want to think. He just wanted to drown in all his sorrows alone.
But if he didn't open the door, it was likely that it would continue until Salazar knows when.
And so he raised his wand and muttered the unlocking charm.
"Oh good Godric! You look like the devil."
He dropped his head into his hands, "Thank you. Now shut up."
"So what are you going to do?"
"About what?" He wished that Albus would leave sooner so that he could pick up that bottle of mead that he was currently holding.
Albus had looked at him like he was mad or strange. But then a spark in his eyes dimmed. Raising his wand, he uttered a sobering charm. "You don't know." He stated.
"Oh thank you so much. I definitely understand what that means." He felt sick now that he wasn't drunk anymore. He didn't want to be sober. He wanted to be so drunk he couldn't think. He didn't want to think. Not about anything and certainly not about that kiss.
"She's getting married tomorrow."
Right at that moment, Albus Severus Potter heard the sound of his best friend's heart breaking.
He regretted chasing Albus out that day.
Albus would have been a very good support for him that day. Albus would know what to say to make him not think about her. Albus would try to make sure that he was okay.
But he couldn't have let him stay.
He couldn't let Albus see him in that state.
For once Albus left, he had dropped to his knees and cried his heart out.
Cried for everything that went wrong in his life, cried for every moment he had spent without her, cried for not being able to make her happy.
He should have used a silencing spell on the apartment, but he was too emotionally drained to think.
He knew Albus heard his sobs, but he didn't really care. He was too emotionally drained to care, to think, to live...
He regretted not going to the wedding earlier too.
If he had, he would have prevented a lot of unnecessary pain and hurt. For Mr. and Mrs. Scamander, for Lysander, for everyone.
It wasn't that he regretted going. No, he didn't. He just wished that he had been there much earlier.
It had taken him two bottles of mead, three full hours, and four hundred pictures of them together for him to come to a decision.
He was going to get her back at all costs.
Because he simply couldn't be without her. Not after he knew that she still felt something for him.
And so he apparated to the orchard in The Burrow, where all Weasley-related weddings were held. He was sure that she was having her wedding there.
When he saw her, his heart skipped a beat; his stomach fluttered; beads of sweat fell down his forehead. She was a vision in white, smiling happily as she was walking down the aisle with her father. She was beautiful.
He wasn't so sure now that he deserved her. Lorcan would treat her right, he was sure of that. But would she be happy with him?
No.
He wasn't going to leave this place, wondering what would have happened if he tried to stop the wedding. He wasn't going to think back on this day and regret. Not again. He didn't want to live with regrets anymore. Not after two years of misery. No. He deserved to be happy.
"STOP!" He shouted. Everyone turned to him. She turned to him, wide eyed and shocked. "Don't. Don't do it."
Everyone was silent. He could see Hugo out of the corner of his eye, gaping at the scene. Albus looked on with a wince on his face. James, Lily, Lysander, Victoire, Teddy, Dominique, Louis, Fred, Roxanne, Molly, Lucy... They were all staring at him, unable to speak. His parents, her parents, the four of them stared at him, mortified that he would do this.
She was silent. And it scared him.
"Don't do it." He whispered again. "Please."
The bouquet slipped from her hands, "Why?"
"Because I love you."
She remained silent.
"Don't marry him. Marry me." Gasps were heard, faint murmuring had started out. "Marry me."
"You can't do this, Scorpius. You can't barge in on my wedding day and tell me not to get married." She paused a while as tears welled up in her eyes, "You can't tell me, after two years of absence, that you love me now and expect me to believe you." Her voice was a soft, gentle whisper, but the words cut through his heart.
"And you can't stand here today marrying a man that you don't really love. A man that you can't love." She drew in a sharp breath.
"You..."
"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't feel anything for me. Look me in the eye and tell me that you don't love me. Look me in the eye and tell me to leave. I will."
"Scorpius please, don't do this to me." He hated making her cry, but he had no choice now. He couldn't let her marry him.
"I love you Rose."
His heartbeat accelerated. He couldn't breathe properly. James and Hugo were by his side now, holding both his arms, as if trying to stop him from attacking.
Rose turned to look at Lorcan. "Lorcan, I'm sorry. I can't do this."
Hate filled his eyes and he turned his wand on Rose.
He regretted causing Rose so much pain that day. He knew that she saw Lorcan as a brother, much like she did Hugo.
But it was her wedding he had ruined. Her big day. It was supposed to be cheerful; it was supposed to be happy.
And it would have been, if the groom had been him all along.
For that, he regretted leaving her even more.
Everyone thought of young Lorcan Scamander as a nice man. How could he not be? His mother was the ethereally bizarre Luna Lovegood. The woman who Harry Potter himself was pretty fond of. His father, Rolf Scamander, was a well known honourable gentleman.
And he was. Lorcan was as fine as gentlemen goes. He was polite, handsome, smart and funny.
But he was also a man madly in love with Rose.
He regretted not killing him that day.
As his wand jabbed against her throat, she let out stunned gasp, "Lorcan!"
Scorpius felt his heart stop beating. Nothing could happen to her. No. Not now. He didn't know what to do without her. Beside him, Hugo and James tensed up and gripped their wands, training it on Lorcan.
All hell broke loose in the orchard. Everyone had their wands trained against Lorcan. Luna Lovegood née Scamander fainted. Lysander looked at his brother, aghast.
"Shut up." He hissed. "All of you shut up or I'll 'Avada' her."
Scorpius couldn't breathe. "Don't. Please don't hurt her. I'll take her place. Please, let her go."
His eyes met Rose's and she gave him a small shake of her head and mouthed something to him. It took him three seconds to realise that her words were: 'go' and 'please'.
"You wish." He shot back, but Lorcan glared at him.
"What?" And his wand dug deeper against her throat. She let out a choke.
"Lorcan, what are you doing?" Lysander asked hysterically.
Lorcan gave a bitter laugh. "Two fucking years I've spent on her and finally I get to make her mine. But look what happens... Dear Scorpius turns up out of nowhere and suddenly I'm forgotten! What about what I've done? To get her, I've used every single way imaginable. I purposely set up rumours about us sleeping together two years ago and it worked." He gave a chuckle, "He left! I was ecstatic. But she couldn't forget him. What was I to do? I gave her time, of course. I manipulated everyone around her. They hated him now. And they loved me. They would want her to marry me, not him! And look at us now!"
James moved to attack Lorcan but Lorcan just petrified him. "James!" Albus shouted and went over to help him.
Scorpius was alone now with Lysander next to him. No one dared to come closer, in fear of triggering Lorcan's fury.
"Everyone stay where you are or I swear she'll die." Lorcan glowered.
"Why are you doing this, son?" Rolf Scamander came over, leaving his wife to the care of Ginny Potter and Angelina Weasley. Hermione had gone pale and was sobbing against Ron.
"Because I deserve her. She belongs to me. I won't let the Malfoy brat take her away from me!" As if proving is point, he bent down to kiss her furiously, never taking his eyes off Scorpius.
She was crying and pushing him away, "Please Lorcan, please..."
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Scorpius couldn't help but to roar.
Lorcan just gave him a psychopathic laugh, "She's mine! All mine! Mine forever!"
"You are mad." Ron whispered.
He laughed, "Of course I am! You just didn't notice earlier."
Scorpius took a small, barely noticeable step forward.
Lorcan saw him and roared, "Don't come forward. If I can't have her, neither will you! I won't let you get away with what's rightfully mine! Mine, I say! Mine, mine, mine! Avada Kedavra!"
A thud was heard as a body landed hard on the ground.
He still regrets now.
As he sits beside the grave of Lysander Scamander, with Rose by his side, he thinks of how it might have been if he hadn't left her in the first place.
But, as Rose puts it, at least they are together right now.
And together they will be, till death do they part.