28 - Anguish
She had never been this kind of girl. The kind that was eternally confused, the kind that despaired when things didn't go her way. One could rely on her and she was there for others. So she had always thought. She wasn't the kind of girl to lose herself in her grief.
No one trod on eggshells around her, and why should they? It was Angelina who had lost her boyfriend, and yet still continued to help others, others who were worse off, with her practical, down-to-earth compassion.
A look of pure fear in her eyes, Alicia reluctantly removed her hands from her face, looked around the room she had rented in a frantic, confused hurry. Did she even have the money for it? She didn't know, but Rosmerta was sure to let her go to Gringotts before paying. Wasn't she?
What did it matter?
The room was warm, she noticed now. A fire had been lit quite some time ago, she noticed. "Why?" she heard herself asking, her voice flat. She didn't expect an answer and she didn't receive one. Her back against the wall, knees pulled against her chest, she sat on the ground, frightened like a child.
There was a colourful cover on the bed, a Tartan pattern. It reminded Alicia of their unworried Hogwarts days, of whispers and soft smiles at the expense of their Head of House. Sometimes, she felt like tearing out her tongue for some of the less kind things she had said, about Colin Creevey, about Lavender Brown, even and perhaps especially about Nymphadora Tonks, who she had secretly been jealous of in Second Year.
On the last day before the students were to arrive, the reparations at Hogwarts had stopped. Some things remained unfinished, but they would be taken care of in good time, Professor Sprout had assured them.
On that day, Alicia had first felt the weight of her disoriented restlessness. She hadn't had the strength to apparate. Angelina of all people had been the one to put an arm around her and find her a room here. It might have been the very same room, she wouldn't have known. Back then, she had at the very least her tiredness to fall back on. Within ten minutes, she had been fast asleep. It had to be a year since then.
She had to work, she knew that. Her parents weren't rich; they couldn't pay for her forever. She had to build a life, a family, have children. One time, in school, the Quidditch team had joked that if they ever had children, there would be no shortage of willing godparents. At the time, Angelina and Fred had already been a couple and Alicia had known that they would be, would have to be, her first child's godparents. Her best friend and the man who was so much like a brother to her. What could have been better? She sobbed suddenly, but her eyes were dry.
It was her first real breakdown. That one time, a year ago, she had told herself firmly that she had a responsibility to help the others. To help Angelina, who spent her days trying to help the Weasleys and her nights drowning her sorrows. To help Katie, who still woke up from nightmares of the botched assassination attempt.
She dared a glance outside. The window was dark; the sun wouldn't rise for another couple of hours. Normally, Alicia hated dark windows; they frightened her, as so much did these days. Normally, she would have closed the curtains immediately. Not tonight.
Tonight, she decided suddenly, with a surprisingly clear head, tonight she would grieve.