Chapter 45
Complication #45: Sometimes it's easier to let people think what they want than to set the story straight.
Al and Cecile finally reappear at dinner that night. They both look a little worse for wear, but Al has his hand on the small of her back as they walk to a spot at the Gryffindor table.
James looks like he wants to run over to both of them, but thinks better of making a scene in the Great Hall.
Gryffindor has Quidditch practice tonight, so I imagine he'll talk to Al after that.
When James, Freddy, and Simon head down to the Quidditch Pitch, us five girls and Alec go to the library.
It's strange being in the library and not sitting in the History of Magic section, but Molly has a preference for this specific table that's perfectly placed between Charms and Transfiguration, and I don't argue with her selection.
I also like keeping my table in the History of Magic section a bit of a secret. It's one of the few places in the castle where I'm guaranteed some quality alone time.
Well, except for James.
I've been meaning to find a specific book about human transfigurations, so I head straight to the bookshelves in search of it. The Hogwarts library is painfully unorganized – there's some sort of system to the shelves that I don't understand at all – so it takes quite a bit of scanning shelves to find what I'm looking for.
And just as I find the book I needed, I hear a conversation pipe up from the other side of the shelves.
I don't recognize the voices, but my ears perk up automatically when I hear my name mentioned.
" – Abby Winchester apparently tried to proposition James on the Quidditch pitch last week."
And then someone else: "But he didn't say yes, did he? I didn't think he did relationships or, like, even hook-ups with Hogwarts girls in general."
"Well they're not together now, so I'm sure he turned her down," the original voice answers. "Although, I dunno, maybe they're just sleeping together at this point."
I want nothing more than to walk around to the other side of the shelves and tell them just how wrong they are. But there's a reason James and I decided not to go public just yet – I have to remind myself of that.
"It's a shame, really," a third voice chimes in. "She literally destroyed her own reputation to go after him and he doesn't even want her. It's – "
I don't hear the rest of that sentence, because I've turned on my heel and walked out of the Transfiguration section as fast as possible. Some mixture of anger and hurt is bubbling up in my stomach, and I don't trust myself to continue eavesdropping without doing something rash.
I just… I don't get it. Why do people care about my love life so much? And why am I always somehow painted as the one desperate to get at James? It was kind of funny the first few times, but now it's infuriating.
When I get back to our table, I throw my books down a bit harder than entirely necessary, earning me startled looks from the other five occupants.
"I'm so fucking sick of Hogwarts gossip," I huff.
"Damn, Abby, language," Alec replies, grinning. I respond by glaring in his direction as I sit down.
"What was it this time?" Caroline asks.
"Something about how I propositioned James last week and he turned me down."
"That's fucking ridiculous," she answers, rolling her eyes. "Whoever started that rumour clearly wasn't paying attention. James checks out your ass at least five times a day, and he doesn't do that good a job of being inconspicuous about it either. There's no way he'd turn down a proposition from you, even if you weren't… you know."
Alec starts to laugh, but quickly conceals it with a coughing fit – we're within sight of the librarian, and getting kicked out of the library before N.E.W.T.s would be less than ideal.
"She's not wrong," Dom adds.
The weird feeling in my stomach starts to dissipate. It's just rumours; it's not reality. I just need to remind myself that, no matter what wild stories get made up about me or about my relationship, none of them are the truth.
I can't let other people get into my head. Because not to mention, it's probably only going to get worse once James and I start telling people we're dating – if I can't handle this, I'm sure as hell not going to be able to handle that.
After everything that's happened this year, I refuse to let this be the thing that pushes me over the edge.
But despite that resolve, this whole incident has managed to completely put me off revision for the night. Which is incredibly frustrating, because it took me so long to find the stupid book I was going to use in the first place.
So instead of getting any real work done, I spend most of the next hour staring at the same page and absorbing absolutely nothing.
"Damn, Abby, what did Animagi and Other Human Transfigurations ever do to you?"
I jump, and look up to see Fred watching me, looking thoroughly entertained. Simon's standing next to him, and it's obvious they both came straight from practice.
How did I not notice them walk over?
I shrug. "Just can't focus, that's all."
Amelie looks at me. "Are you really still that worked up about this?"
"About what?" Fred asks. He's moved into the space behind Caroline's chair, and is gently running his hands across her shoulders.
Caroline answers for me. "Abby overheard a couple of dumb pricks talking about some rumour that James rejected her."
"And you're mad about that because…? I mean, it's obviously not true."
"Yeah, I know that," I reply, and my voice comes out snappier than I intended. I take a deep breath, and try again. "It's just annoying, you know? That people keep making up lies about me."
"You know what would fix that though?" Amelie says. "If you two actually told people you're together."
"Or, it'll make everything ten times worse," I add.
"Yeah, that's also a possibility," Simon concedes.
Amelie turns around and glares at him. "You're not helping," she says.
Simon shrugs. "I'm being realistic."
I choose to ignore their bickering, and look over at Freddy. "Where's James?"
"He said he had to get some logistical shit sorted out," he answers. "Don't worry, your lover boy will probably be coming this way soon."
So my instinct was right; James probably is talking to Al after practice.
The group banter continues for a little while longer, earning us a number of shushes from the librarian (and even a few other students). We've finally all given up the pretense of studying and are all packing up our stuff by the time James shows up.
"Oh thank Merlin," he says when he sees that we're all getting ready to leave. "I really did not want to do revision tonight."
"That sort of mindset won't get you O's on your N.E.W.T.s," I say teasingly.
Never mind that I also didn't get any revision done tonight. Just call me the poster child for hypocrisy.
"Hey, not all of us can be nerdy Ravenclaws," James retorts, which isn't his best idea given the number of Ravenclaws in the group he's addressing.
"More like, not everyone can be a fucking genius." Dom flips her ponytail for effect.
James rolls his eyes, clearly unable to come up with a decent response to that. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
As we walk out of the library, James' hand finds my own. As everyone else turns to go towards the main staircase, he moves in the opposite direction. And I follow.
"We'll catch up with you lot later," James says.
For the second time today, Freddy gives me a very specific smirk, and Alec even goes so far as to wolf-whistle.
I expect Dom to round on him for that, but instead, she joins in. "Use protection!"
Traitor.
I turn back to James, who's regarding me curiously.
Once everyone's out of earshot, he starts talking. But not about the topic I'd expected. "Why haven't you corrected them?" he asks. "About, you know, us, and…"
"Because what's the point?" I say. "If anyone bothered to actually ask, I wouldn't lie, but like, why go out of my way? I mean, it's bound to happen soon enough, anyways."
James blinks. "Soon enough," he repeats, and I can basically see the cogs in his brain spinning and trying to interpret what that means.
"And I'm sure you're enjoying the boost to your reputation," I add, ignoring his obvious thought process. "All your friends think you're getting laid on the regular."
He snorts. "Really, it wouldn't matter if you told them all the truth."
"Oh, yeah?" I say. "Then why didn't you say anything?"
After a beat of silence, James concedes. "Fair point."
"Anyways," I say, changing the subject, "how's Al?"
"He's… managing," James answers. "I think he's trying to be strong for Cecile – she's apparently been beating herself up over it because she's convinced it's somehow her fault even though it was just, like, a freak thing – but he's… he's not himself, really. He owled Mum and Dad about it, and I think they're going to try to help. I think Mum knows someone who helps people deal with this kind of stuff professionally."
"Well, that's good," I say. Merlin knows none of us are qualified to be of any use.
James stops in his tracks. "It's all just… it's all so surreal, you know? And I know this is all sorts of self-centred, because it was Al's baby, not mine, but like… I was almost an uncle. Which is… fucking insane to think about. But I shouldn't even be thinking about that, when Al's the one who's so messed up right now."
I turn to face him, grabbing both of his hands. "You're allowed to think about those kinds of things. And Godric, James, don't even try to call yourself self-centred. You're the most selfless person I know."
"Really?"
"Yes, James," I sigh. "For Merlin's sake, you didn't even like me at the start of this year, yet you still spent like three hours trying to make me feel better after Blaise and I broke up."
"Well, yeah, because it was partially my fault that you were in that situation to begin with," James tries to argue.
"That's rubbish, and you know it," I retort. "What I chose to do was entirely my own fault. Yeah, you were involved, but I'm the one who made the choices that I did."
"But – "
"Stop it," I interrupt. "Seriously, James, I don't know what to do with you right now – stop being so self-deprecating, please."
He doesn't say anything in response; instead, he steps forward and wraps his arms around me. I do the same, resting my head against his shoulder.
I think about what I just said, and suddenly laugh. "You know, I never thought I'd have to tell you to be more arrogant about something."
The Ravenclaw-Slytherin match proves to be a really good one – the score is tight the entire time, up until Andrew Bligh catches the Snitch and wins the match for Ravenclaw.
It's sad to think that this is the last of my own House's matches I'll be able to watch. I never once thought I'd say this in a million years, but I'm going to miss Quidditch.
The morning after, however, is even more interesting. I've never been big into my own birthday - not even last year, when I officially became of age - but something about this one feels different.
First off, probably because Freddy screams, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ABBY!" as soon as I walk into the Great Hall.
And then there's James, who leans in to whisper, "Happy birthday, love," when I take the seat next to him.
"Thank you," I tell them both, feeling myself flush a little – and I honestly can't tell if that's from Freddy's very public announcement or James' very intimate one.
An owl drops a letter in front of me, and I stare at it for a long moment. I know that handwriting.
Eventually I cave, ripping it open and reading the letter inside.
Abigail dearest,
Happy birthday, darling! I hope you have a lovely day.
I heard from a colleague that you've accepted a position with the Auror department. That's wonderful – I always knew you'd excel in the Ministry. I do wish you'd told me you were applying though; I could've pulled some strings to get you into a higher-paying contract –
"Unbelievable," I say under my breath, before shoving the half-read letter to the bottom of my bag.
How dare she act like nothing has happened. Like she wasn't giving me veiled threats just a few months ago about cutting me out of her life.
I look up and notice that I'm currently the recipient of a number of concerned looks. "It's nothing," I say. "My mother's just being ridiculous."
It's a weak explanation at best, but it gets everyone to stop looking at me like they're worried I'm about to cry. Which, really, they should know better by this point, because when have I ever actually cried in public?
James hums. "So you successfully called her bluff."
"I suppose I did," is my response, and luckily, James doesn't try to push the subject any more.
"So there's a party happening tonight, right?" Simon asks.
"Yep," James answers. "But it's just us lot, because Abby would've freaked on me if I tried to plan anything bigger. Room of Requirement at 8, and there's plenty of alcohol to go around."
"James, you do realize we have class tomorrow, right?" Molly says, frowning.
"Your point?"
Fred reaches across the table and gives him a high five.
Molly rolls her eyes at the two of them, but doesn't put up much more of a fight than that.
The rest of the day passes by in a blur of studying – unfortunately, a spring birthday has always meant that I've spent at least part of the day studying for exams. And because it's N.E.W.T. season, I'm studying even more now.
As a result, I'm more than ready to drink by the time that 8:00 rolls around. I don't bother dressing up all that much – given that it's not a real party, after all. Although, given my consistent propensity to overdress, that just means I'm wearing what the average person would wear to a party.
Dom, Caroline, and I get to the Room of Requirement right on time. As Dom reaches for the door handle, I'm instantly greeted with the fear that maybe James decided to throw a big party anyways. He's always over-the-top, so why would this be an exception?
But as the door swings open, I realize that my fear is completely unfounded.
Yes, James went a little over the top. But in the best way.
The whole room – which is much smaller than it usually is for normal parties – is covered in fairy lights, and there are a couple couches arranged in a circle in the middle of the room. On the table in the centre is a slightly-excessive amount of elf-made wine, accompanied by what I'd assume is the boys' choice of liquor for the night.
The boys themselves are already lounging on the couches, plastic cups in hand.
"I've got to admit, James knows you well," Caroline says, looking around the room.
"Of course I do," comes James' reply. "What kind of boyfriend would I be otherwise?"
"Blaise," she quips back.
I snicker, because she's not entirely wrong.
There's a beat of awkward silence, but the moment is saved by the arrival of Molly and Amelie. And even though I gave Molly the option, it appears that Davies didn't come with.
"Holy shit, this place looks so good!" Molly gushes, looking around.
"And now that everyone's here," James grins, "we can finally start drinking."
Dom gives him an exasperated look. "You do realize you lot are already drinking, right?"
"I just mean we can start this," he replies, reaching under the table and pulling out the infamous arcade drinking game.
Dom rolls her eyes, before taking the seat next to Alec and resting her hand on his knee. Despite the fighting that I know is happening between them, they're somehow acting fine in front of people. I'm not sure what that's about.
I end up on a couch between James and Molly, and somehow, James already has drinks poured for the both of us.
"So, the way this works, apparently," he explains, "is you pull out a block, and you have to do whatever the block says. But if you knock the whole thing over, you lose."
"And what's the punishment for losing?" Molly asks.
"You finish whatever's left in your cup."
Molly sighs. "I'm going to regret this so much in Defense tomorrow morning."
"For the love of Merlin, stop being so responsible, and enjoy the damn game," Fred says, laughing.
James draws first, and whatever was written on the tile somehow results in him losing his shirt. As I lean back into his chest, I can't say I'm disappointed with that result.
The game continues in much of the same manner – Fred draws a tile that requires all the girls to drink, Louis can only make animal noises for the rest of the game, Amelie and Simon end up sitting back to back, Dom makes everyone else drink for an exorbitant amount of time, and Molly gets some sort of obscure Muggle reference that none of us understand.
On my turn, I grab for a tile and – luckily – don't know anything over, even though the whole structure is looking highly precarious at this point.
" 'Kiss the hottest person in the room,' " I read aloud. "So, er, that would be… Dom?"
James squawks in indignation, which has the effect of sending me into a fit of giggles.
When I recover, he's pouting at me. "Fine, I guess you're good enough," I concede, and quickly kiss him before he has a chance to act affronted a second time.
And it's probably due to the fact that I'm already a little buzzed, but the kiss goes straight to my head. My free hand curls into the fabric of James' shirt, nearly pulling him on top of me as the kiss intensifies.
Someone clears their throat, and James and I jump apart. "Whoops," I mutter, trying to sound at least the tiniest bit guilty for what just happened.
"I vote we take that tile out for future games so that no one has to be subjected to that very public display of affection ever again," Alec announces.
"Right," comes James' sarcastic response. "Because you're one to talk."
That sets off a round of laughter, and completely dissipates any residual tension in the room.
The game continues, until Caroline pulls a tile and the whole thing comes tumbling down. She looks at the rubble, and proceeds to down her whole drink in a matter of seconds.
"I'm so proud to call you my girlfriend," Freddy says, grinning at Caroline.
"You lot are all nauseating!" Amelie cries, before taking a large sip of wine.
The game continues for a few more rounds, but in the middle of the fourth (or fifth?), James suddenly stands up, and offers his hand to me. I take it, because – rather predictably – my wine consumption has made me a bit unsteady on my feet.
"We'll be back in a few," James announces.
And after a beat of silence, "You lot need to get your minds out of the gutter, I'm just giving Abby her birthday gift."
When no one's expressions change, James gives up. "Not that kind of birthday gift."
I'm still giggling at this when we leave the Room of Requirement and walk down the hall. Under one of the lanterns, James turns to face me, looking the tiniest bit nervous as he reaches into his pocket.
When he pulls his hand back out, he's holding a small box.
"Happy birthday, Abby."
I take the box from his hand and open it. Inside sits a ring shaped like a tiara, dotted with small stones that sparkle in the faint light of the corridor. There's a small card inside as well, which reads:
You may not be Queen Bee anymore, but you'll always be like royalty to me.
"I figured it was kind of symbolic, you know?" James comments. "Along with being, like, really fucking cheesy."
I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes – I blame the wine for making me more sentimental than usual – as I look up at James. "It is a little cheesy. But it's perfect."
"I hope it fits right," he adds, reaching up to toy with his hair. "Ring sizes are confusing as hell – I mean, why are they letters of the alphabet? What does M or N have to do with anything?"
I laugh, and test the ring on a few of my fingers. It slides onto my middle finger perfectly.
"You guessed well," I tell him.
"So do you like it?"
I admire the crown sitting on my finger, a physical reminder of everything that's happened this year and how much has changed in my life since then.
"I love it."
Sneak peek of chapter 46…
"You're… wearing my jersey," he says.
"What?" I say, looking over at him and blinking innocently. "I can't support my totally platonic friend by wearing his jersey?"
I watch James' eyes as they slowly travel up and down my body. "I really want to kiss you right now."
Fred coughs. "Please don't, the rest of us are trying to eat breakfast."
