It doesn't rain, so instead I diverge into the next best tactic for curing bad feelings; pumpkin pasties. The common room is filled with sweet wrappers and left over bits of pastry. A second year has to wade through the sea of silver, my rubbish spilling off the chair and disturbing the floor around me. I've eaten so many pastries that I've lost count; it's lucky that I never seem to gain weight regardless of what I eat. I cram a handful of Bertie Botts beans into my mouth and immediately regret it. Vomit, earwax and porridge aren't the nicest flavours on their own, but together it feels like something has died in my mouth. It's even worse than the marmalade that Peter fondled. I hear a gentle chuckle from behind me and my heart skips a beat.
"Stella, how many pumpkin pasties have you eaten?" Remus asks, a curious smile playing on his lips. I feel my cheeks tinge scarlet, shrugging my shoulders and wishing even more that I hadn't eaten the Bertie Botts beans, my facial expression from eating porridgey-earwaxy-vomit is far from charming or attractive. He grins, and with one fluid movement, he climbs over the back of the sofa landing next to me and narrowly missing my stash of food. If I weren't madly in love with him, I'd tell him to watch where he is going.
"Do you want one?" I ask, between mouthfuls of pasty. Remus nods, taking a pasty and throwing it between each hand. Seriously, I could be eating that. If I weren't madly in love with him, I'd tell him to stop wasting food.
"I actually just wanted to thank you, for all those notes. That was so kind of you." He mutters gently, crossing his legs in a similar manner to mine, so we are facing each other, like two little children. I shrug my shoulders, trying and failing to be nonchalant, whilst desperately hoping that he can't see my blushes.
"It honestly doesn't matter," I reply, throwing a bean into my mouth. Thank goodness its strawberry flavour. I don't know what I'd look like if it was tomato. Remus's crooked grin fades slightly, and a pang of sadness glistens in his eyes. I frenziedly fight the urge to wrap my arms around him and dissolve the sorrow with kisses.
"Are you alright Stella?" He questions my inquisitive expression and I relax, smiling and nodding. He actually looks far from comfortable, slightly nervous. He drums his fingers repetitively on the pumpkin pasty that he still hasn't eaten, and he leans closer to me, his voice hushed.
"I was actually wondering if you could give me some advice, James says you're really good with that sort of stuff... perceptive." Bless him, and bless James. They are sweethearts, the two of them. I love being a shoulder to lean on or an agony aunt, and it's always nice to hear that my advice is useful. Besides, I'd be happy to tell Remus what type of engagement ring or what I'd like to name our four children. My imagination gets embarrassingly carried away sometimes.
"Sure, what's bothering you? Bertie Bean?" I ask, offering the packet. He takes one, popping it casually into his mouth before diverging.
"You're a girl, right." I hope its toenail flavoured.
"You're observant," I mumble, trying not to sound too annoyed.
"Well there's this girl that I really like, and I was wondering if you could suggest the best way to ask her out. I'm not particularly experienced in... That sort of thing..." his voice trails, and my heart sinks.
A horrible sharp pain thunders in the pit of my stomach, the same sort of feeling that I got when I was a child and I first realised that fairytales aren't real. Disenchantment. Except this is worse, because I still love him, I still long for him, but I know now that is no way we will ever be together. I always knew that he only thought of me as a friend, I had just been deluding myself into believing that perhaps there was a chance for us to be together. A small, nagging voice at the back of my mind had always told me that this day would come, but I chose to ignore it. Now my hopes are crushed and there is nothing left but foolish desire and shattered dreams.
"I'll just have a think about it, let me get back to you," I whisper so my voice won't crack, pulling on the biggest false smile I can muster. Remus grins cheerfully, nodding and stating gratitude. I dive off the sofa and scrabble up the stairs, ignoring all those who smile and wave at me as they pass.
I finally find my way towards the girls' bathroom, the cold white porcelain dull in the half-light. I stagger my way across the room, clambering into the shower fully clothed and switching on the taps. I can't create rain; this is the closest I can get without the weather being in my favour. The water thunders in my ears and cascades down my face, replacing the tears that should be there. I can't cry but I can't stop the terrible feeling of grief. The horrible emotions won't wash away, no matter how hard I try to forget or how fiercely the water plummets. Droplets collect on my eyelashes and in my hair, whilst I clamp my hands over my ears, trying to block out the laughter echoing from the nearby dormitory.
I can't wash away my sorrows, so instead I drown in them.
