Year Four Part Three
"Julie!" Caelum came barreling into the room. "Julie!"
He shook her shoulder. "Ju-li-et!"
She sat up. "What is it?" she mumbled. Her eyes blinked open to see bright brown eyes and curly brown hair. "Hey!" she shrieked, her voice uneven from sleep. "Caelum! How many times have I asked you to knock before coming in here?"
The boy's hands came up widespread in front of him. "The door was open," Caelum said defensively. "Mum tried to wake you up twenty minutes ago. We're going to the Burrow for brunch."
Juliet took a deep breath. "I don't feel very well," she said finally. "I'll stay home."
Caelum looked doubtful. "What's wrong with you?" he asked suspiciously.
She shot him a glare. "I've got a headache."
"Alright." He turned towards the door. "She says she's not going!" he called. "A headache!"
He didn't look like he believed her, in fact, he looked a little annoyed. She returned the feeling twofold. "Your yelling isn't helping," she informed him.
Hermione appeared at the door. "Sweetie, you're not coming?"
"No," Juliet said. "I don't feel well."
Hermione sighed. "They miss you, Julie. George says he's a got a Pygmy Puff ready for you to name. He's been keeping it for you since your birthday."
Juliet felt guilty for avoiding everyone. She hadn't seen the Weasleys in a month now, either making plans to floo to Marta's or feigning some sort of ill, and she knew they did ask of her every time she was absent. The last time she'd been at the Burrow was after leaving King's Cross and going there for a welcome home dinner. She hadn't been to the Potter's all summer.
"Sorry," she said. "I think a few more hours of rest would do me well though."
"What's that?" Draco ducked around to see what was going on.
"Juliet's staying home," Hermione filled in. "She has a headache."
Draco frowned. "Alright. I'll stay home with her then." He looked at Juliet. "Tea, darling?"
The concerned gaze her dad had fixed on her twisted her heart. "I think I'll just go back to sleep," she said. "But thanks. There's really no need to stay. I don't want to keep anyone."
Draco shook his head. "No trouble," he said. "Shall I put the kettle on?"
Hermione put her hand on Draco's chest as he turned to head down to the kitchen. Caelum slipped out around them and went off in the direction of his room. "You and Cae go," her mum said. "Juliet and I are going to be just fine."
"Is she alright?" Draco whispered as Hermione walked him out the door, closing it behind them as Juliet folded herself back into her sheets.
"She's okay," Hermione assured. "You two get going."
"Is she sick?" Draco asked. "Maybe we should take her by a healer if the headaches continue—"
"She's fine," Hermione said. "Honestly. Take Caelum for brunch. Ask Ginny if you need answers. Write Estelle a note to let her know where you're off to and that Julie and I will be back by late afternoon."
"Back?" Draco repeated. "Where are you going?"
"Out." Hermione swept her hair into a ponytail and then kissed him sweetly. "A bit of women's remedy. Don't worry."
Draco chuckled and nodded. "Alright. You do whatever it is you do and we'll see you later."
"Thank you."
Juliet listened carefully to the sounds downstairs as she heard her dad call goodbye and the floo erupt. She let out a sigh of relief at yet another escaped encounter.
There was a knock at her door and her mum's voice carried a smile through the wood. "Are you hungry for breakfast?" she asked.
"Not really," Juliet replied. She shut her eyes and turned on her side, curling up.
"Even if it's cake?" Hermione tried.
There was a pause.
"Get dressed and come downstairs," her mum instructed. "We're going out for breakfast."
It was twenty-five minutes later that Juliet found herself in her favourite denim shorts and faded Tonne Titans shirt, something Marta had gotten her at the concert she'd gone to, walking down the street with her mum and wondering just where they were going. She hoped it would be worth the awful feeling of side-along apparition she had endured.
"Here we are." Hermione opened a door and allowed Juliet through.
It was a bakery, she realized. Cakes and pastries filled the glass case and little round tables with small café chairs were arranged as small seating areas.
"Hermione! She's back!"
Juliet's attention was drawn at her mum's name leaving the lips of the man behind the counter. He looked to be about in his late twenties, maybe even thirty, with a white apron on and a white hat covering his chestnut coloured hair. He was grinning widely. "Hermione Malfoy, I haven't seen you in months."
Her mum laughed. "Sorry Charlie. The kids are home for the summer. It's been family night, not date night."
Charlie laughed and looked at the girl beside the familiar customer. "Juliet," he said slowly. "The last time I saw you, you were a toddling three year old. You probably don't remember me. I'm Charlie."
"Nice to meet you," Juliet said.
Hermione smiled. "I used to live in a flat just down there," she said, pointing in the direction of her old building. "Your dad and I used to come here for dessert all the time."
Charlie smirked. "Or just breakfast. I'd imagine that's why you're here today."
"Don't judge," Hermione said.
Juliet began to look through the desserts, surprised her mum was allowing her to eat cake for breakfast, but not in any way prepared to protest.
"So how's business?" Hermione asked. "How long have you been running the place now?"
"Three years," Charlie replied with a sigh. "And things are going well."
"That's great. And has anyone special walked into your life yet?" Hermione raised her eyebrows and Charlie chuckled, wiping down the countertop absentmindedly.
"No," he said. "But I am enjoying the bachelor life. Mum keeps trying to set me up with her friends' daughters. I've been on a few dates but nothing's clicked."
"Aw. I'm sure I know someone I could set you up with if you like," she offered.
Charlie shook his head. "Thanks though. You two know what you'd like?"
Juliet smiled. "Cheesecake please," she requested.
Hermione asked for chocolate mousse and Charlie fixed them plates and two glasses of milk while they took a seat and relaxed. Once they had their dessert, Charlie disappeared into the back to decorate a pre-ordered cake and told them to holler if they needed anything.
"So, how's Max?"
Juliet looked up as took her first bite of the delicious dessert. "He's fine," she said. "Why?"
"It just seemed you hadn't written him in a while," her mum said. "He seems like a very nice young man though."
Juliet nodded in agreement. "He is. He just doesn't like writing much."
Hermione nodded.
"Mum?" Juliet started.
"Mhm?"
"I'm sorry I haven't been going to the Burrow lately," she said.
Her mum smiled softly. "That's okay, Julie," she told her. "But they do miss you. Is there a reason you don't like going anymore? Did you and James get into a row?"
Juliet sighed and placed her fork down on her plate, taking a sip of milk. "Not exactly," she said carefully. She knew her mum was waiting for further explanation but she wasn't sure what to tell her. She hadn't told anyone about The Kiss, an incident that was capitalized in her mind just like that, being the event that changed all of it.
She had come to realize that the reason James had kissed her was not because his girlfriend had just broken up with him, or at least, that wasn't the only reason. No, that would have made things easier. If that was the case then he would have said so right after he'd done it and things could have gone back to being relatively normal. But, no.
It taken her awhile, and she had fought against the idea adamantly at first, thinking she was merely flattering herself, but she had come to a conclusion and that conclusion was this: James Potter was attracted to her.
She had to wonder if it was because she was dating Max, though. She knew it was in human nature to simply want what one could not have. Furthermore, she'd always been linked to Max through James. Though she'd never be a person's possession, not really, she couldn't help but think that perhaps the reason James, well, wanted her was because in his mind she was more his than she was Max's and he felt she had been taken from him. He wanted her back. But the question was: if he had her, would he still want her?
She had spent hours analyzing the situation and growing more and more frustrated and angry with it. And she had no one to tell.
That night in the dormitory she had cast a silencing charm about her bed, not wanting to wake the other girls, and cried herself to sleep. The next morning she had debated telling Marta about the incident, but knew that talking about it would only cause her another bout of tears and so she decided she would wait until they had a moment alone. However, that moment never came and the more time that passed, the more she convinced herself she could just pretend it never happened at that would be the end of it.
She was wrong.
She still felt a whirlwind of emotions every time she was in the same vicinity of James, though she had not said a single word directly to him for the rest of the school year. For the first while, the most dominant of these emotions were anger and confusion but within a week or so they had subsided slightly and made room for the strange cloud of hurt that hung around and fogged up her insides whenever he was around and that word, that 'nothing', came back to mind.
The worst though, was being around Max. The guilt was physically painful. She knew she should have told him, it would have been the honest thing to do. She knew that. But at the same time, she knew that telling him would likely cause a rift between him and James. She wasn't so vain to think she'd be the sole cause of it, whatever fight they would have would not be solely over her. It would go farther than that, it had to do with trust. In that respect, it was up to James to decide if he was going to confess anything. At the same time, as a girlfriend, she wasn't being very fair in choosing not to tell him that another boy had kissed her.
For that, she felt awful.
"I don't think he likes me dating Max," Juliet decided on finally. A little bit of truth.
Hermione laughed. "Boys," she said. "Is that all? You know, he's been asking for you; whatever it is, I'm sure he's gotten over it."
Juliet returned the laughter humourlessly. "I'm sure he has."
"Sweetie," Hermione began. "I'll tell you what my mother told me when I was young. Boys aren't very bright. At least not at this age. If you want them to know something you've got to tell them."
Juliet shook her head. "James isn't that stupid. He knows."
"I don't know," her mum said doubtfully. "Perhaps we need a male's opinion."
Juliet glanced at doorway to the kitchen.
"Charlie," Hermione called.
"Yeah?" He slapped his hands on his apron as he came out from the back, a bit of pink icing smeared on his right cheek.
"How do you read a girl?" Hermione asked.
Charlie raised an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"
Juliet spoke up. "How do you know if a girl is mad at you? Or if she fancies you?" she asked with a blush.
"Ah," Charlie said in understanding. He leaned back on the counter. "Well, they typically stop talking to you if they're mad, no? As for being fancied, she really ought to tell me. Or follow me, I suppose, but I wouldn't suggest that one." He paused. "It's a real shame sometimes. Knew this girl in secondary school and thought she was gorgeous but never said a word to her. You know. Because she was gorgeous. Anyway. Saw her again just last year and I met her fiancé and then she tells me how she much she fancied me back then." He shook his head. "What use is that to me now is what I'd like to know."
They laughed.
"Look, love," Charlie said, "if this is about a bloke, just tell him."
Juliet sighed. "It's...um...not like that," she said. "But thanks."
Hermione smiled as they took their last bites of cake. "All done?" she asked.
Juliet nodded.
Her mum asked for the bill and then they thanked Charlie and left the shop, deciding to do a bit of shopping while they were out.
Juliet was wearing her new sun hat as they exited the last boutique when she came out with it. "I'm afraid I might fancy James," she blurted.
Hermione hid a smile at her daughter's admission. "Oh darling." Her arm wound around her and squeezed her tight. "You know, I think he might—"
"Mum."
"Okay." She sighed. "Well, if that's the case you really ought to tell Max. It's not fair to lead the boy on."
"I know," Juliet said. "I just...he is good guy. I thought I might feel differently about him by now." She sucked in a deep breath and found resolve. If she said it aloud she'd follow through. She'd have to. "I'll wait until school starts. I'll talk to him in person."
"Good. Now let's say we go home and meet Estelle for tea."
"Okay."
Hermione led her daughter into the alleyway and pulled her wand from her bag, preparing to apparate.
"Mum?" Juliet said. "Thank you. For taking me out this morning. And I promise I'll go to brunch next week."
It was one meal, she told herself. She could handle that. Even if it was James' birthday.
"Juliet Malfoy!"
She shrunk back and cowered in the doorway. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley," she greeted sheepishly.
"Where have you been?" Mrs. Weasley demanded. The woman's hands landed firmly on her hips as she stared down the fifteen year old. Juliet's eyes widened as her parents slipped by her and her brother shot right past her to find Albus and James.
"Sorry," she said. "I wasn't feeling very well and Marta invited me over to hers."
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "No excuses," she said.
Juliet offered a smile. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Oh, alright then. You're forgiven. Go join the others." Mrs. Weasley wrapped her in a hug and sent her off to the kitchen.
Juliet laughed as she went on her way, placing James' present next to the others in the corner and saying a hello to Ginny and Bill by the stove. It sweltering hot inside the house. The windows were thrown open but there was hardly a breeze coming through, the air heavy and humid in early August. It was understandable that everyone had gathered outside.
Juliet went out to the back and looked around, spotting the younger kids running about the yard, giggling madly and shrieking. She shielded her eyes from the sun and swept over the space once again. It took her a moment before her gaze landed on the three figures lying in the over grown grass.
Her tall shadow fell across them as she stood above them. "Hi." She licked her lips and watched as James' and Albus' eyes opened. Caelum was unbothered.
Albus smiled while James looked taken aback. He scrambled to get to his feet. "Hi," he said, sounding a little breathless as he dragged the back of his hand across his forehead. She cursed the way her stomach flipped at having him in such close proximity.
"Happy birthday," she wished him.
"Thanks." He paused. "So, uh, how have you been?"
"Fine." Her eyes flicked to the ground. Looking up, she met his stare and then looked away quickly. "You?"
"I've…I've been alright. Have you—"
A shout from inside told them the meal was ready and Juliet turned on her heel and went back to the house. She let out a sigh of relief once safely inside and seated at the opposite end of the table from the chair with the balloons tied to it.
James sat down with a sigh of his own, watching as his sister squealed in excitement at seeing Juliet. Lily climbed onto the chair next to the older girl and James couldn't help a sad smile as he heard Juliet tell Lily how tall she'd grown.
He wondered how conspicuous it would be if he got up and moved seats then. He didn't have to sit next to her. Just close enough to hear her conversations and get a better sense of how fine she had really been doing.
Was she angry? Furious? Sad? Did she hate him? Did she want nothing to do with him? Was she really fine?
Did she miss him even a fraction as much as he missed her?
Because he wasn't really alright. He was a wreck.
Once they had finished eating and the dishes were cleared, Ginny moved everyone into the living room while Harry levitated the presents to surround the couch. Mr. Weasley told James he could take the patriarch's usual armchair and handed him his first present.
James sat and opened the presents with a grin, thanking everyone for the gifts and taking the time to read each card before tearing at wrapping paper.
He got a number of gift certificates and quite the sum of galleons from his family and friends. He couldn't help his twinge of annoyance throughout the happening however as people continued to hand him different presents when he could see the gift he wanted to get to, wrapped in the gold paper Hermione always used for the kids' presents. The white envelope atop it, the card he so desperately wanted to read, taunted him with hope.
It was a stupid and unexplainable expectation but he hoped that maybe she'd have written something in his card. Something...important.
It seemed like forever before he had the thin envelope in his hands and his thumb sliding under the flap. He tore it open and skimmed for her writing.
Happy Birthday. Hope it's wonderful.
~ Juliet
The disappointment caused a deflating feeling to press into his chest, forcing a long exhalation from him.
He should've known. What was she going to do? Profess undying love to him right next to her brother's signature? Unlikely.
And it wasn't as though he had given her a personalized birthday card this year. He hadn't even had the bollocks to go up and wish her a happy birthday in person, just signed his name to the card his parents had gotten for her.
He could only blame himself.
Juliet avoided his disappointed expression, staring at her lap. She eyed the square outline in her pocket with indecision.
Scooting back around the side of the couch, she discretely pulled the page from her shorts and read it over again.
Dear James,
Happy Birthday!
I can't believe you're sixteen. That's incredible. You're so old.
Just kidding.
But seriously, I just keep thinking about when we were, or rather, I was five years old and we thought anything over ten years old was all old and grown up. And you swore you'd never grow up and become boring. Crossed your heart and hoped to die.
In some ways, I suppose you lied. You don't behave like a six year old anymore. At least not all the time. And you don't look like one. But I wouldn't call you boring either. Not yet.
I know this isn't exactly the place, but I want you to know that I don't hate you. Not in any sense of the word. I'm actually not sure how to feel about you right now. At all.
I don't know why you did what you did and I have wracked my brain for hours trying to figure it out. And it is exhausting and pointless and utterly aggravating. I just want it to be over, okay? No more limbo.
We can forget it happened.
Sorry I ruined your card. Happy Birthday.
Love,
Juliet
No, she decided, tearing it in half and shoving the note back into her pocket. She wouldn't.
"Stelly?" Juliet padded down the corridor. "Stelly?" She stepped into the kitchen and saw the elderly woman at the table, steam rising from the kettle and a sliced lemon beside her teacup.
Estelle looked up. "Darling, what in the world are you doing up? You're," she coughed and sipped from her cup, "you're off to school tomorrow. Go get some sleep, dear."
"Can't sleep," Juliet explained. "May I join you?"
Estelle considered for a moment before nodding and pulling out an empty chair quietly. "No more than twenty minutes," she said. "You've got to get some rest."
"I can sleep on the train," Juliet dismissed.
"What's keeping you up?" Estelle asked.
"Too many thoughts," Juliet whispered, blessing Estelle as she placed a hand on her chest and covered her mouth to cough yet again.
"Are you feeling alright?" she asked.
"I feel as though I'm coming down with a cold," Estelle said. She stood and went to the cupboards, getting Juliet a teacup and pouring her some hot water before sliding both the cup and saucer along with a lemon wedge her way. "I fear I may not be well enough to see you off in the morning," she said. "Forgive me if I don't come along this year."
Juliet shook her head. "It's okay. Just wish me luck."
Estelle smiled. "You don't need luck."
"You're right." Juliet grinned ruefully. "I need a miracle."
Estelle patted the girl's hand in silent contradiction. "Fifteen." The older woman closed her eyes a moment and pictured the baby girl to whom she had fed countless bottles and rocked to sound sleep. It was as though it was only last week that the little girl's cries were rousing her from bed at all odd hours of the night, only yesterday that she'd scraped her four year old knee and cried for a half hour. "You've got a big year ahead of you," Estelle said.
Juliet nodded, though she had no idea how truly accurate that statement was.
"My O. W. L.s are this year," she said. "I'm going to be studying an awful lot."
"I'm sure you'll do brilliantly."
"And…I've decided I ought to break up with Max once we get back to school."
"Oh, dear."
"No," Juliet said. "No. It's for the best. I feel terrible but I shouldn't pretend, right? I shouldn't…" What had her mum said? "I shouldn't lead him on."
Estelle nodded. "I'm sure he'll understand, darling."
"I hope so."
Her nanny gave her an all too knowing smile. "And James?" she prompted.
"What about James?" Juliet asked.
Estelle laughed. "You are so much like your father sometimes."
Juliet smiled. She was often told how much she was like her mum; they shared many of the same habits and interests. And there was no need to point out how much she resembled her dad, the shockingly blonde hair and piercing grey eyes said it all. It was hard to know what similarities she shared with her biological mother. As far as she knew the only traits she'd gotten from Pansy were her extra small ears and pinky fingers that could fold while her other fingers stood straight.
It was unusual for people to tell her that she was reflective of her dad in any way beyond appearance. She couldn't help her smile at the comment. "Thank you," she said.
"You're very welcome," Estelle said.
They fell into the quiet lull of the house at night.
Juliet finished her drink and reached for the kettle. She stopped at the look her nanny gave her. "Just one more," she pleaded.
"Darling, get back to bed," Estelle told her gently.
"I can't sleep, Stelly," Juliet said again. "I'm too worried."
Estelle stood and collected the teacups, saucers and kettle. "You've nothing to worry about," she whispered, stroking the top of the girl's hair. "You're going to be great."
Author's Note: I know this chapter was boring and I'm really sorry about that but it's been a boring week and I promise I'll try to make up for it with the next one.
I'd like to take a second to just thank everyone for reviewing. You all are incredible and if I don't reply or it takes me awhile know that I have read it and I really appreciate it but that I'm probably preoccupied with regular work or writing the next chapter to reply to every single one of you.
I don't want to bore all of you with my life story here so feel free to skip over this but I just want to say that this year has been crappy. This year has just sucked. And the only thing I've wanted to do all year was write and your support has been incredible.
I truly believe you all are the best readers, as biased as I am. Your reviews make my day. Your messages make me smile. And the fact that you all take the time to read what I write and more often than not, you enjoy it, it just astounds me.
Thank you all so, so much. I never imagained I could write a story like this on here and get such a response. You're all lovely to me and I hope you know that.
Anyways,
Scarlett