Lorcan Scamander was having an ordinary day. He hated ordinary days. From a young age, his parents had not been shy in telling them about their part in the second wizarding war. All the stories, well, thats just what they were to him. Stories. But people had actually lived like that. They lived in constant fear, never knowing if they would see their loved ones ever again. It scared him. So, he decided that for the rest of his life, he would attempt to always look forward to the littlest things each day. Usually it was walking to two of his classes with Lucy Weasley, lunch and dinner, Care of Magical Creatures, and some of the freedom he got in between his homework. But today contained nothing special. Lucy walked to class with the other Weasleys, lunch and dinner consisted of him trying to complete a forgotten potions assignment, Care of Magical Creatures was boring, and his free time? Gone.
Instead of heading for the inter-house common room like he usually did, he trudged to the library. For once, he was deeply hating school. Who the fudge invented homework? All set to face the most horrible hour of his life, he began pulling useful books out from the shelves of doom. That is, until he heard a faint sniffling noise. Was someone.. crying? Maybe it was the stress of school. He maturely decided to give the person some privacy. Until the same person decided to bump into him.
"Sorry, mate. Its this stupid subject thats boggling my mind and making me cr-"
This person. He knew this red- haired person. This brown- eyed person. This person that he had had conflicting feelings about since the beginning of time. You could say he had a teensy- weensy bit of a crush on her. Miniscule. Minute. Tiny.
"Lucy?"
She opened her mouth. And promptly snapped it shut. Her freckle covered face morphed into a grimace which he supposed was meant to be an apologetic look. Then she turned around and walked back to her table.
Well… that was awkward. Not remembering what he was doing at that particular row of shelves, Lorcan tried to get to work. Essay writing was not his strength for sure. Lucy was really good at writing essays. Desperate, he shuffled over to her table.
"Erm.. Lucy? I, ah… are you okay?"
Unlike their first meeting ten minutes ago, the Weasley's face was red, blotchy, and covered in suspicious looking water droplets.
"I'm fine."
She was sure as hell not fine. Her voice shook just in saying those two words.
"You are not fine."
"You're right, I'm not fine. But please pretend like I am so I don't cry again. I tend to cry more when people ask me if I'm okay."
Of course, Lorcan's brain forgot to filter what came out of his mouth next.
"But are you okay?"
She sighed, and finally stopped pretending to concentrate on her work.
"No, Lorcan. I'm not okay. Why are you here?"
His brain forgot that part too. Worse, his arms and legs suddenly felt like coming to rescue. Because he pulled out a chair, plopped his stuff down on the table, and faced her.
"Um.. I kind of need assistance with this homework? But if you're busy…"
The brown- haired boy wanted to smack himself. He wasn't normally this much of an idiot. He must've done something correctly, though, because a small smile appeared on her face.
"You already sat down. How am i supposed to say no?"
"Good point."
"So what exactly do you need help with?"
"This essay about protection spells. I can't even get the introduction down! Whatever ideas i have are completely useless."
He expected her to laugh as she pulled the essay towards her. Or agree with him. But she did neither. Instead, she looked confused.
"Isn't this essay due next week?"
Now i was the confused one.
"It could be. I dunno.. Oh, wait! Lysander and Frank already went and asked Proffessor Flitwick if they could turn it in late due to Quidditch Practice. He said no and that it was due on Thursday. No exceptions."
"Are you sure?"
Her brown eyes bore into his. Yet, she looked afraid. Afraid of what, the nargles probably knew.
"I'm pretty sure… Why? You haven't done it?"
She nodded ever so slowly and stared down at her parchment. It was quite the uncomfortable silence. This was odd. Normally they had something or the other to talk about. So Lorcan decided to initiate the conversation. That was, until the words died in his throat. To his surprise, Lucy was crying silently. This time, his brain knew what to do.
"Lucy.. what's wrong? You can tell me. There's nobody here." He scooted his chair closer to her.
"Lorcan.. I just.. I don't know! It's so stupid. I'm a blithering idiot for crying like this." The tears were coming down faster and heavier now. Lorcan did what seemed like the most natural thing in the world. He hugged her. She loosened after a few seconds of being stiff and rested her head, along with her large and frizzy hair, on his chest. There was an odd sensation in his stomach that he chose to ignore as he let the silence hang in the air for a bit.
"Lucy."
Suddenly, she pulled away and looked down at her tear-stained work again. The boy sat, bewildered. Had he been too pushy? Had he been too friendly?
"Do you know what its like to feel useless?" Her voice was dead serious. It gave him the heebie jeebies.
"But you aren't useless, its just a stupid essay-"
"No, Lorcan. Listen. It isn't just the essay. Its just another thing I'm a failure at. Do you know what its like to feel as if you don't belong anywhere? You don't belong in the Weasley family because you aren't outgoing, successful, insanely smart, amazing at quidditch or important enough. You don't belong with the Ravenclaws because they're smarter than you can ever be. That includes you. Just look at my friends! Quidditch captains, prefects, geniuses. For god's sake, Lauren is going to skip seventh year and go straight into being a healer! They all have talents that I don't. They work so hard on a daily basis and look how they handle it. I cant freaking finish an essay on time. Look at me, crying about all of this because I'm weak and clingy and annoying!"
"Lucy-"
She kept on going. So he let her finish.
"There is nobody who cares if I'm alive or dead. Nobody who likes me as more than friend, or hell, even a friend! I have bushy half straight, half curly hair and freckles on every inch of my pale body. I don't have any cleavage or anything. Im not just a nobody. Im a useless, talentless, ugly nobody. And I'm not just saying all of this because I want you to contradict it. Im saying that this is why I wish I had succeeded in killing myself in April."
She stiffened immediately. She thought she had said too much. She was wrong. She had said enough.
"Lucy, what did you do in April?"
"Nothing."
"Lucy."
"Lucy Weasley."
"Lucy Weasley, you'd better fucking tell me what you did."
"Molly and mum had gone shopping. Dad was at work and I had a knife..It hurt. And it bled. But before I could finish the job, Rose came over looking for Molly. I cleaned up fast and hid the wounds. Nobody knew then and nobody knows now. Except you."
Lorcan Scamander's ordinary day turned the opposite at that exact moement. He was shocked.
"Im going to go up to the dorm now. Please forget whatever I just said."
His brain stopped working. But his heart went into overdrive. He knocked over the book she was holding. Lorcan Scamander kissed Lucy Weasley. It was the most amazing thing in the world. Not because they were very good kissers or that their lips were made for each other or anything. On the contrary, she wasn't that great. And he wasn't either. But it was amazing.
Out of breath, they finally pulled away and looked anywhere but each other. The redhead began to pack up again.
"Didn't that mean anything to you?"
She must've heard the hurt tone of his voice because she stopped.
"Of course it meant everything to me. But it was pity kiss. And i'd rather not be pitied."
"Lucy, DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND," he screamed in hushed whispers, if that made any sense. "FINE, OKAY. MAYBE I DONT LOVE YOU. ITS TOO EARLY. BUT I SURE AS HELL LIKE YOU OKAY. I'VE BEEN LYING TO MYSELF AND SAYING THIS CRUSH IS TINY. BECAUSE IT'S NOT. ITS MASSIVE. I love your hair. And i love how much you care about people. Remember that time we watched Finding Nemo in muggle studies club and you cried? Thats what makes you specialer to me. You're so sensitive and even if you don't believe it, prettier than Molly or Rose or Lily by a landslide. If you died,i would live. But I would be a dead man walking. You are not useless, Lucy Weasley. You mean a lot to me. Your talent is being you. That sounds like something a bloody teacher would say but it's true. You, Lucy Weasley, are my greatest little hope. The thing that i most look forward to in a day. And I look forward to being with you, as a friend or as more."
The last thing he saw before the Weasley girl barreled into him was her hair. It was hagrid-y. But he wouldn't trade it for anything. Neither would he trade the hug she was giving him right now, the friendship that they shared for the next two years, or the relationship from then onwards. Oh, and as it turns out, the essay wasn't due on Thursday.