Higher and Higher
Chapter Two
Broken pieces of
A barely breathing story
Where there once was love
Now there's only me and the lonely.
Dancing slowly in an empty room
Can the lonely take the place of you?
I sing myself a quiet lullaby
Let you go and let the lonely in
To take my heart again.
Christina Perri - The Lonely
When Hugo woke up the next morning and discovered James gone, he felt cold. Not physically cold - the duvet he was under was lovely and thick - but cold inside, like he imagined a Dementor would make him feel. And not just cold, but a little empty too; empty because James should have been there beside him.
He also had a nasty pounding going on inside his skull, but he suspected that was from the fire whiskey.
He stumbled out of the bed and spotted the crumpled pile of clothing lying on the floor over by the couch. Not James' clothing though; just his.
The clothes weren't exactly clean, but he struggled into them anyway. He had to pause partway through when a wave of nausea rolled over him. Finally, he managed to dress himself, and stumbled over to the door and asked the room (in his mind) to open into the secret side-room that he was so familiar with.
The hidden alcove had been discovered by Fred a few years ago. It was a small space that appeared to be - and felt like - a wall to those outside it, until you tapped the shin of the suit of armour next to it with your wand and walked into the apparent wall that was three steps to your left. It was a bit like the Kings Cross barrier; it never appeared to lead anywhere - you had to pass through what seemed to be a solid wall. It was unnerving, but useful. And, once you were on the other side, you could see everything in the corridor like there was nothing there, so it was an easy way to sneak out of the Room of Requirement without getting caught.
The concentration it took to get back into a Hogwarts corridor kept his mind off… other things for a few moments, but as soon as he found himself in the warm, comforting light of the more commonly-used parts of the castle, everything came flooding back. He felt as though he couldn't breath, and questions swirled around and around in his head. Why had James left? What did it mean? Would his cousin ever speak to him again? Was their a rational explanation for his hasty departure, like Quidditch practice? If so, why hadn't he left a note?
No one was around yet - checking his watch, Hugo realised it was still six in the morning. That was a relief, as he was sure he'd look a mess. He needed to find a bathroom, or go to his dorms. No, scrap his dorms; there were insane Quidditch players sleeping there. No doubt they'd be going down to breakfast early so they could squeeze in half an hour of flying before class. He didn't want to run into anyone.
He began walking, wondering how he could get rid of this damned headache. He didn't have any potions for pain as he hadn't needed any recently, and he was far too young to need a hangover cure. Or, at least, he should be. One thing was certain; he definitely wasn't going to Madam Pomfrey.
He ducked into a bathroom. As expected, it was empty, and he made his way over to the sink. Looking into the mirror, he shuddered.
He was a mess. His skin was pale, his eyes baggy and bloodshot. His vivid hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in a week, and he ran his fingers through it. It didn't help a lot. Turning on the tap, he splashed water over his face. All it did was make him wetter than before.
'Why had James left?'he wondered once more, although deep down he thought he already knew. He wasn't sure whether to confront him, or give him some time. He wasn't sure whether or not he should give himself time. He hadn't been thinking last night, but he supposed at the time he'd had a half-constructed dream of him and James forming a secret relationship or having a deep heart-to-heart about their feelings.
He hadn't been expecting this.
Now he had to decide what to do. He should probably try to sneak up to the dormitory and get ready for class, but right now class was the last thing on his mind. He wished he still had the invisibility cloak - then he could go anywhere he wanted to.
That was the problem with having such a large family. The cloak, stolen from their father's study quite some time ago, got handed around so often amongst so many people that it was unlikely for anyone to be in possession of it whenever they actually needed it. If his memory served him correctly, Lorcan had it at the moment. Usually if he needed it, he'd just ask, but….
No, it was preferable to skulk around the castle and hope that no one notices.
He exited the bathroom and made his way to the nearest secret corridor. Once class had started, he could creep back up to his dorm and decide what to do next.
xXx
"There you are!"
The words made him jump out of his skin and he knocked over the inkwell that was sitting beside him. He swore and scooped it up, staining his fingers in the process. He looked up and glared at the intruder.
"Lily, what are you doing here?"
He should have known that if anyone would come looking for him, it would be Lily. For a second, when he'd heard her voice, he'd hoped it was James who'd come to find him. He'd hoped James had come to explain, or apologise, or even just to pretend it never happened. It was a stupid hope; his voice sounded nothing like Lily's, but he still felt a flash of annoyance towards Lily that she wasn't James.
"I could ask you the same question," she retorted, her eyes flashing. "You weren't in Herbology, or Transfiguration."
"So?" he asked. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was lunch. So he'd bunked four classes today. That was something new.
"So where were you?" Lily asked. "I asked Monique, and she said you weren't in your other two classes either. So don't pretend you went to them."
Lily had been sorted into Slytherin so, while she was in Hugo's year, she was only in some of his classes. But they were a tight-knit bunch, the lot of them, and Hugo should have realised he couldn't hide from her. "I wasn't going to pretend," he told her, trying to install some emotion that wasn't despair into his voice.
It worked, but not well enough. Lily gave him an appraising look and let out a sigh. She dropped into a sitting position beside him and looked at him sternly. "All right," she said firmly. "I know something's wrong. Spill."
Hugo avoided looking into her eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything's fine."
Lily let out an extremely undignified snort. "That's bullshit. I can tell when you're lying."
"Since when?" Hugo challenged her.
"Since you got so crap at it. So about five minutes ago."
Hugo just looked away, and Lily let out a sound of frustration. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?" she demanded.
"Why do you have to be so pesky?"
She shoved him playfully, and he shoved her back. She grinned and settled back into her cross-legged position, falling silent. She put her arm around his shoulder and he leaned into her awkward hug.
"How'd you know where to find me?" he asked, before belatedly realising how stupid the question was.
"Map," Lily said simply. Like the cloak, the map got handed around the rather large group so much that James and Albus often joked about making a second map for the purpose of locating the first.
They fell back into a comfortable silence, but eventually Lily stretched. "I have to get to class," she said. "Are you coming?"
Hugo shook his head. Lily frowned, clearly fighting the urge to say something. "Alright," she said eventually. "See you later then."
"Bye," Hugo murmured as she left. The secret door slid shut behind her with a final sound, and it reminded the Weasley of the closing of a tomb.
xXx
Unlike Hugo, James attended his classes, for all the good it did him. He'd had all of about two hours sleep the night before, and he welcomed History of Magic, where he could fall asleep like everyone else to the sound of Binns' droning voice. He didn't even care if he snored.
When the school day was over he grabbed his broom and headed directly to the Quidditch Pitch, despite the desire to just crawl into bed and slip into mind-numbing sleep. No one was using it - as expected - and he took advantage of the emptiness of the grounds to practice a move he was determined to pull off - the Wronski Feint. To be honest, he was pretty good at diving towards the ground and pulling out of it, but right now he wanted nothing more than to do it over and over again, revelling in the numerous times he could have smashed into the ground.
There were a couple of times where he wondered what it would be like to just keep going until it was too late to pull out. Just to let the ground hit him. He'd deserve it, after what he just did. Merlin, Hugo wasn't even of age! That was statutory rape. He'd raped his little cousin. His cousin.
'I should just keep going,' James told himself vehemently. 'I'd probably break several bones. It would hurt like hell. And if I wanted help, I'd have to either crawl to the castle myself or wait for someone to find me. There's no one around.'
But despite these thoughts, he always pulled away from the ground just in time.
He spent so long out there that he missed dinner, and the sun began to set. The ground became difficult to see, and he knew it was more likely he'd crash in such terrible light. Maybe the night would do what he didn't have to guts to.
Still he continued, until a dark figure strode out across the ground. He didn't need her shout, "James, get down here!" to realise it was his bossy little sister. Lily had an extremely confident, bold stride and he'd yet to meet anyone who could mimic it.
He descended to the ground, touching down in front of her. "You weren't at dinner," she accused, her hands on her hips in a pose that reminded him scarily of their mother.
"I was practicing," he said.
The sun had almost completely set, but there was just enough light for James to see her purse her lips. "You need to talk to Hugo," she said suddenly.
"What? Why?" James asked, his surprise only half faked. Hugo hadn't said anything, had he? Surely he wouldn't be that thick?
"Because he's holed himself up in a secret room and hasn't come out all day. He won't tell me what's wrong, he hasn't been down to dinner or to any of his classes, and you're the only one he talks to when he's like this."
"He won't talk to me now," James said dismissively.
"You know what's wrong?" Lily asked quickly.
James hesitated. "I think I do," he lied. "And if I'm right, he won't talk to me."
Lily stayed quiet for a few minutes, and James knew that she was resisting the urge to ask what was wrong with him. Finally, she asked, "And if you're wrong?"
"I'm not," James said.
"You can at least try!" she burst out. "He's never done anything like this before! He hates missing one class, let alone all of them. You're his cousin, James!" James flinched at that, and Lily noticed. Luckily, she seemed to think it was because he realised he should be trying to help. "He'll talk to you. I know he will," she finished, more gently.
"It won't do any good," James said stubbornly.
Lily glared at him once more, looking as though she was about to return to yelling, and James' braced himself for the scolding. But then she let out the huge breath she had drawn. For the first time, James understood how books could say people literally looked 'deflated'. All the fight went out of her, and she looked like she'd lost what little hope she had in him.
"Who are you?" she asked softly. "There's something seriously wrong with Hugo, and you're supposed to care." Then, before James could answer, she turned away. He wanted to reach for her arm and stop her, or to fly beside her, or call her back. But what could he say? He couldn't tell her he was the thing wrong with Hugo.
He wanted to go back to flying, but even he knew when it was too dark. Instead he waited for Lily to get a good head start before following her back up to the castle. All the time, her words resounded in his thoughts.
You're supposed to care.
'I do, Lily,' he thought to himself. 'If only you knew how much.'
xXx
Hugo touched the painted fruit lightly with the tips of his fingers - that was all it took these days. He'd spoken with Albus about it once, and the other boy had agreed; it had taken a lot more tickling when they first discovered the secret way to the kitchens. "I reckon," the Ravenclaw had speculated, "that the pear knows who we are now. It sees us and anticipates the tickling, and it works itself into a ticklish state so that we don't have to spend the time at the beginning doing it."
Hugo had told him he was an idiot, of course, and that his theory barely made any sense, but it had been the most logical explanation any of them had been able to come up with. Maybe he was on to something.
He'd been down to the kitchens so many times by now that he could do it blindfolded. In fact, one time he had done it blindfolded. Therefore, he no longer looked into the kitchen as he entered, choosing to keep his eyes on the ground before him where he knew the house elves would appear. He'd once made the mistake of standing on the foot of one of the more traditional elves, and he'd spent about twenty minutes begging it, reasoning with it, and finally forbidding it from harming itself because it'd got in his way.
That was why he was surprised to look up and meet a pair of sparkling brown eyes from across the room.
"Hugo," James whispered from where he was seated, putting down the slice of treacle an elf had given him.
"James." Hugo's voice broke a little.
A/N: Sorry about the delay! I really should have written a few chapters before posting the first one. But never fear, exams are here! Which means I'm going to do a whole lot more writing as I procrastinate all the study I should be doing.
Please review!
Beta: The awesome chronicxxinsanity
