Chapter Forty-Six: Emily: The Hero
Everything was dark again.
I broke out into a sweat, beginning to panic; it couldn't have been a dream. I was out of that room, wherever it was, whatever it was, I was out of the ministry, I was, Al and Scorpius and James and Adam and Dom were all there, and we found Mr. Potter, we got out, we did. My breathing came out short as I began to blink rapidly, but there was nothing but darkness, like the walls were closing in around me even though I couldn't see them –
OKAY WHAT IS THAT INSANE BEEPING?
Light suddenly flooded my vision, and I clenched my eyes shut, as though I'd been burned. In my eyes. I heard footsteps running towards me, then warm hands taking mine and pulling me up. I slowly opened one eye. Then the other.
I wasn't in the black hole. There were curtains around me – light blue ones. I was on a white single bed, odd wires attached to me, the beeping coming from some monitor that clearly picked up on my mini panic attack. I looked up at the person who'd helped me up – a middle-aged lady, olive-skinned, donning scrubs. A nurse.
"Where am I?" I asked weakly, my voice cracking.
"St. Mungo's."
"Where's Al?" I said frantically, fear gripping me as I whipped my head around. "Is he okay? Did I splinch him? He –"
"You splinched yourself, dear," she said patiently. She reached over to a table beside me and plucked up a paper cup. "Mr. Potter will be just fine. You managed to get him here right on time."
I could barely breathe, hardly believing it. I clenched the sheets around me. "Really? He's alive?"
"Yes." She patted my arm. "He's in critical condition. There was some curse in his wound we couldn't quite identify, but it was dark magic."
My throat was too dry to swallow. "He got cut by some falling bricks in Azkaban."
"That would explain it," she said, tapping her wand against the cup and filling it with water. She handed it to me. "The curse put up a fight, but your father managed to banish it."
I slowly took a sip of water. My hands were shaking.
She must've read the question in my eyes, because she shook her head. "No, you can't see Mr. Potter. Not yet. He's been asleep for two days, just as you have."
I couldn't believe my ears. "Two days?"
"Two days," she confirmed, nodding. "You had some form of the Crutiatus Curse on you. It tortured you at random times, didn't it?"
I nodded numbly.
"It's gone," she reassured me, patting my arm again. "You splinched your leg a bit, and your ribs were cracked. Also a little malnourished and dehydrated. Everything's fine now."
"What about everyone else?" I blurted out. I knew I felt relatively fine, besides intense fear squeezing me to death. "What about Mr. Potter? Is he all right?"
"He's recovering well, yes."
"And what about the war?" I asked worriedly. "Is it still going on?"
"It's all over," she said soothingly, taking my cup and pushing me back down onto the bed. "The war is over and everyone's okay. You need some rest."
"But –"
"Sleep," she insisted. She loosened the wires from the stickies on my skin before extinguishing the lights. Letting me sleep peacefully.
If only that was an option.
Believe it or not, after sleeping for two days straight, you don't really feel all that tired. I lay in bed, gritting my teeth, tossing and turning and wishing I was an effing Gryffindor so I could find some courage and peek into the other stalls and look for Al. But I was afraid of what I would find.
So I waited.
Oh Merlin, the wait.
It was the worst part of all this. Scratch that, actually; the worst part was Al losing so much blood and nearly dying on me, but the wait came pretty close. I knew he was going to be okay – don't get me wrong, I wasn't stupid – but it was still torture. It was the dread of the inevitable, to see how bad the damage really was, and there I was, stuck in a bed.
I guess the bright side in all this that Al's spells on my necklace really did work, and the healers hadn't discovered my bruises. Though I wasn't really sure it was a bright side, since I wanted them gone – but it was better that they didn't know, and didn't inform my parents.
I didn't know how long it was before natural sunlight started streaming in the room, and I sighed with relief. Soon after, the nurse was back with a tray of breakfast, telling me I was free to leave when I was ready. My parents came in soon after that, in their rumpled scrubs and teary faces.
But even they wouldn't tell me where Al was.
Despite their protests, I wouldn't go home. I resolved to stay in the waiting room, where the rest of the Potter family had gathered. Surprisingly, the first person who found me as I got out of the room was Rose.
"You're okay!" she whisper-squealed, throwing her arms around me. I nearly fell over if it weren't for her gripping me so tightly. "Merlin, Emily, you scared me so much, this can't be good for the pregnancy –"
"Let her breathe, Rose," Scorpius joked from behind her, grinning at me. But as soon as she let me go, he engulfed me in a hug, squeezing me tighter. "You took your time waking up."
"Miss me?" I joked, and a flash of pain streaked across his features. "Too soon?"
"You worried us so much," Rose said as Scorpius released me. "And then when we heard what happened in Azkaban – you realize you arrived at St. Mungo's with Al's bloody body and splinched, right?"
"I don't really remember arriving," I said honestly, shrugging. I glanced back at the other stalls in the room. "Have you seen Al?"
Rose's face fell slightly. "No. But he's not here. He's on the fourth floor somewhere, but they put him in critical care."
"But he's fine," Scorpius added hastily upon seeing the look on my face. "Really, Em. He's going to need some time to recover, but he got really lucky."
I think Rose could tell how I was feeling, because she leaned in to hug me again. "No one's seen him yet. You should come back to the waiting room, Aunt Ginny, James and Lily want to see you."
"They haven't left, because they're waiting for Al to wake up," Scorpius explained. "I'm sure they would've visited you otherwise. But they're practically glued to their seats at this point."
"I understand…" I said, trailing off, thinking. And I did understand. I didn't want to see his parents' reactions, because wasn't it my fault he got into this mess? He married me to save me. I was the one who went and got myself captured, and he saved me again. If it weren't for me, he wouldn't have nearly died.
I just felt as though he had come so close to death, and I had come far too close to losing him. I'd panicked. I should've performed the spells I knew, the ones I'd read in textbooks and learned at work but I didn't. I understood why Healers never performed on their own family. My mind went blank.
I wanted to talk to him more than anything. He had done so much for me, period. I wanted to hold him and kiss him and love him and tell him how much he meant to me. I wanted to apologize for getting him into this and somehow show him how thankful I was for him – how I literally felt like the luckiest person in the world.
"I think I'm going to go to the bathroom," I said suddenly – maybe a bit too loudly. They seemed almost startled, and I lowered my voice. "I mean – I'll meet you in the waiting room, okay?"
"Are you sure?" Scorp asked.
"Yes, of course, I'm fine," I said nonchalantly, dismissing the worry with a wave of my hand. "Just have to empty my bladder. Haven't done that in a while, you know."
I turned a little red as the corners of their mouths twitched.
"Yeah, all right," Rose agreed, turning to hobble on back to the waiting room. Scorpius gave me an amused look before catching up with her. He knew what I was doing. He always knew.
Now, where was Al?
Considering the fact that both my parents had medical professions and worked in the hospital, as well as my internship I'd done for half the summer, I could safely say that I knew the ins and outs to St. Mungo's pretty well. But I'd never seen patients in critical care before.
I walked around the hallways nervously, clutching the sides of my old pyjamas my parents had brought for me. Healers gave me odd looks as I passed, but no one stopped me as I hurried past them, checking signs as I passed by them. It wasn't until I heard a loud voice coming from one of the rooms that I stopped dead in my tracks.
"This place is such a bore. The food is disgusting! I refuse to sleep anymore!"
"Maybe if you shut up, you wouldn't be bored by the sound of your own voice!"
"I want to watch my cartoons."
"I want to knock you unconscious."
"Fuck off!"
I tentatively peeked into the room. It was one very much like mine, except only with four stalls. I saw the boy that had been complaining – couldn't have been older than ten years old – in the stall in front of Al's. I slowly slid my eyes over to Al, nervously, because the last time I'd seen him he'd been dying.
I sighed in relief.
He'd grumpily slumped into his pillows, arms crossed against his chest and muttering to himself. That was a sign of healing, right? I greedily watched Al, still a little pale, his movements slow and jerky and still exhausted, but awake, not bleeding and definitely alive. I was waiting again, but this time, it was okay. He was okay. But if he was awake, where was his family?
"Can I leave now?" Al moaned to the nurse in the room.
She rolled her eyes. Knowing Al, he must've asked until she wanted to kick him out. "What's your pain level?"
"I could just heal at home, if all I need to do is sleep and keep my back straight."
"Mr. Potter."
"Seriously. My mum won't leave the room. Or my dad, and he can't really move anyway."
"Mr. Potter."
"My girlfriend's parents are both healers. And she's studying to be one, too."
"I'm sure she'd take great care of you," she said dryly. I sniggered.
She walked over to Al's bed and pointed at the chart on the wall. Pain level one was indicated with a happy face, and the faces slowly grew worse as the numbers increased. The last one was in tears. Charming. "Pain?"
He groaned again. "I dunno. Six or seven?"
"Then you're staying here," she dismissed immediately, surveying him. "Once the level is around three, you can have visitors."
"But it only hurts when I move."
"Exactly why you can't have visitors." She pulled the pillow a little higher, making sure it was just his head on top of it. "Lie flat."
"I am lying flat," he snapped.
"Your spine should be –"
"Straight, I know, I know," he grumbled, cursing under his breath as he wiggled flat on the bed. "Can I please sit up for a little bit so I can read?"
"Yes, all right," she conceded, "but let me help – Mr. Potter, you can't complain about the pain if you move like this!"
Al had moved his pillow and used his elbows to shift himself to the top half of his bed. Apparently, even this movement was too much for him; his arms collapsed as he cried out in pain, clenching his eyes shut and lying flat on the bed again.
"I'm okay," he said breathlessly. He opened his eyes and moved his pillow back underneath his head before managing to smile at the elderly nurse. "See? I'm fine."
She rolled her eyes and used her wand to re-adjust the bed so that the top half raised, keeping Al's back flat on the bed, but now sitting up. Al reached for a book the bedside table, but she quickly snatched it to give it to him before he could move again.
"Don't move," she snapped at him, handing him the book. I tried to keep from smiling, but I didn't blame her; she must've been tired of this routine by now. She stepped out and drew the curtains shut around him before walking out. I barely had time to react before realizing she was heading towards me.
My eyes widened and my head shot back behind the wall again, but it was too late; she'd probably known I was there the entire time. She stopped in front of me, arms crossed in front of her, just giving me a stern look.
I swallowed hard, but didn't break eye contact.
"Probably the worst way to get an injured patient to the hospital is through apparating," she said after a few moments.
I was caught off guard. "Yeah – yeah, I know, but –"
"It's preferred, because it's fastest," she finished for me, still giving me that same, protective look.
"I didn't really have a choice."
"That's also usually the case." She sighed and glanced back into the room. "So you're the girlfriend who's going to take care of him?"
"Apparently," I said, unable to keep the smile from spreading on my face. "Can I see him?"
"Only if you convince him to stop moving," she said, frustration evident in her voice. "Think you could do that for me?"
"He doesn't really listen to me, either."
"Do your best, dear," she said, nodding at me before leaving. I nervously swallowed again before stepping inside the room.
There were only two patients out of the four available beds – Al, and the little boy. The whining boy had been distracted momentarily by some sort of hand-held game; through a tiny gap in the curtains, I could see him muttering to the screen as he rapidly clicked buttons. I turned to Al's bed, which was next to a window, curtains drawn shut around him.
I felt inexplicably nervous about the whole ideal. I almost wanted to run away. I was used to running away. I didn't know if things were going to be awkward with him, or if he would still love me after I was considerably less interesting, because now there was no one to save.
I wasn't sure if I could call myself out on this yet, since I hadn't seen him, but I had a feeling it was all bullshit. There was another (admittedly larger) part of me that just wanted to shove the curtains back and throw my arms around him and never let go. And I had a feeling he felt the same.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pyjamas and quickly slipped through the slit in the curtains. Al looked momentarily confused when he saw me – but then gave me the biggest smile I'd ever seen.
"Emily," he greeted happily, closing his book. "They let you out?"
"Ye –" My voice caught in my throat, so I cleared it. I sat on the end of his bed and looked down at my hands. "Yeah. I feel completely fine."
"Good." His smile was bleeding into his voice. "What the hell are you doing all the way over there?"
Bloody hell, why was I so nervous?
I glanced at him and blushed from his gaze. I quickly looked back down. "I dunno. I don't want to hurt you."
"You're not going to hurt me," he assured, scooting closer. I involuntarily winced when he hissed a little, but he quickly recovered and reached out to take my hands. "Really. I don't think the person who saved my life could hurt me."
I chuckled and slipped my fingers through his. "Liar."
"Am not."
"You saved my life first. Twice."
"I never did what you did for me," he said quietly, tugging at my hand. I think he was annoyed that I wasn't looking at him. "I never dragged you around Azkaban and then apparated you all the way to London, despite your broken ribs and that curse and having been starved for two days –"
He stopped abruptly and peered at me. "Are you crying?"
"No," I said hurriedly, cursing my tears. "No, of course not."
"You're crying," he teased.
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Shut up and get your arse over here," he told me, taking me by surprise when he pulled me close to him. He didn't seem to be in pain as he leaned down to kiss my wet cheeks. "Why are you crying? We got out. You should be happy."
"I am," I replied, shrugging.
"And you're all healed."
"Yeah, I suppose."
"Could you just tell me what's wrong?" he asked softly, cupping my face. "Please?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat and avoided his gaze. "I thought you were going to die."
He snorted. "Well, I clearly didn't."
My eyes snapped up.
"How did I know that?" I demanded, blinking through my tears. "Do you know what it was like? You were losing so much blood and you were pale and I could barely carry you and you were going to pass out and –"
Al pulled me against my chest, rocking me back and forth.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered, kissing the crown of my head. "I give you full permission to beat the shit out of me."
"Serves you right," I mumbled. I gripped him tighter, trying not to hurt him. "I thought I almost lost you."
"I know the feeling," he said into my hair. I didn't know how he felt when I'd been captured, but if the way he was suddenly holding me even closer was any indication, he'd probably been as scared as I was.
"Do you remember our honeymoon?" I asked.
"Seems so long ago."
"You know all those nightmares I had?" He hummed in affirmation. "What happened was sort of what I dreamed." I was mumbling my confession into his hospital gown. "I dreamed that you had stepped in front of something for me. To save me."
"Oh." His voice was thoughtful. His fingers traced the back of my neck. "You know me too well."
"It's not fair," I told him. "It's not fair that you had to make all those sacrifices for me. It's not fair that you married me short-term, and then you got stuck with that bond, and now you got hurt so badly –"
"Em –"
"It's my fault," I said, trying not to cry again. "I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," he insisted, pushing me back and kissing my forehead. "Merlin, how could you say that? I practically volunteered for all of it."
"But you –"
"You know me," he said, wiping my cheeks with his palms. "Emily, you know me. It's not in my nature to just stand back and let things happen when I know I could do something about it. Remember when my mum didn't let me help out when my dad was taken? It drove my insane."
"But it's not fair that you almost died because of me."
"Maybe not." He kissed my forehead again. "But I'd do it again."
"Don't you dare."
He laughed.
I reached around him, carefully slipping my fingers to the back of his neck. "Does this hurt?"
"Not at all," he said, glancing down at my lips.
I bit my lip, trying to tease him a little as I traced the back of his neck. I toyed with the strings of his hospital gown, suddenly remembering the design left his back bare. Where his wound was. My fingers halted at a little bump on the top of his back.
Al was still staring at my lips. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing." I slid my hands off of him. "Can I see?"
He nodded – probably a little disappointed I wasn't kissing him – and I crawled around to see his back. It was bare from the opening of the hospital gown, and I could see the patched scars from where the jagged rock had torn his skin so roughly. I ran one finger down the middle of his back, tracing the scar. To my surprise, he squirmed.
"Stop," he said, chuckling. "That tickles."
"It doesn't hurt?" I asked.
"Not if you touch it. Only if I move."
"Right," I said softly, feeling the scar again. Not really comprehending what I was doing, I leaned in and pressed my lips to the top of the scar. Like he'd done for me. I heard his breath hitch as I ran my lips a little lower, kissing him again.
"Em," he whispered, nearly breathless. Then I was realizing how intimate this actually was, and I blushed.
He turned around and kissed me, seemingly not feeling (or noticing) any pain. His gown fell off of his back and hung around his arms, and I pulled away to tug it off. Al looked like he was trying very hard not to smirk.
"It was in the way," I said defensively, crossing my arms against my chest. "I know it's a hospital thing, but it just looks silly, and technically they're not operating anymore so you don't need to wear –"
I was cut off when he leaned forwards, reaching for me – then suddenly realized how much that actually hurt him. He lost his balanced and fell on top of me, trapping me against the bed. It felt very familiar – but we weren't in Azkaban. We were going to be okay.
I laughed as he tried to adjust his weight so he wasn't squishing me, but failed. He seemed to take offence as he pushed his forehead against mine.
"A little help?" he asked, annoyed.
"I happen to like this position."
"I'm squishing you."
"Not much. I don't mind." I kissed him before he could protest, and he relaxed against me. It was slow and deep and adoring and I didn't want to stop. Ever. It was Al who pulled away first, stroking my cheek softly.
"I knew girls liked scars," he mumbled, and I snorted.
"Shut up and kiss me," I said impatiently, pulling him back against me.
(I think he took that to heart.)
"Mr. Potter, please refrain from fornicating with your girlfriend in the hospital beds."
Al made an impatient noise before lifting his lips from mine. "She's my wife."
"We do not appreciate nudity for non-medical reasons in this facility."
"All right, keep your hairnet on," Al muttered irritably, still hovering above me and ignoring the nurse as she shut the curtains again. He went back to kissing me fervently.
"Am I your wife now?" I teased, smiling against his lips.
"Sounds better than trying to shag your girlfriend in a hospital bed." He nibbled on my lower lip for a moment. "Especially when she's not ready for it, anyway."
That stung. I frowned and gently pushed him off of me. "You're really a jerk sometimes, you know that?"
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."
"No, I don't know that," I said, taking his hospital gown and helping him put it back on. "I don't think we quite finished that conversation."
"That wasn't my fault," he pointed out as I crawled back out in front of him. He suddenly looked tired again, trying to scoot back so he could lie flat onto the raised part of the bed. "I'm sure things would've gone a lot better if you hadn't left."
My stomach dropped guiltily. "I apologized for that."
"And I forgave you." He pulled me closer so I was lying beside him. "Look, Em, we have to talk this out at some point."
I sighed and rolled onto my side so I could face him. "Yeah, I guess we should."
I waited, but he didn't say anything. He just kept staring at me – maybe he was waiting for me? I didn't know. Nerves had suddenly coiled and squeezed in my stomach; I was guilty. Because he'd pretty much poured his heart out, and I'd walked away.
In my defense, having my secret revealed, Al giving me possibly the best present in the world and then telling me how he was basically the reason for Holly's mental health – that's a lot to take in. I didn't mean to completely walk out, but I just… I felt suffocated. I just needed to get away for a bit.
And of course, I didn't get a chance to go back.
But I would have! Stupid Death Eaters.
"I'm sorry," I blurted out much too loudly. I lowered my voice hastily and shifted forward before continuing, looking straight into Al's eyes. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to leave. I swear. I just needed to think, and then I really couldn't breathe and just needed some time alone –"
"I told you, I forgave you," he cut in patiently. "It's not as though I didn't do the same thing in Rome, remember?"
"It was just a lot at once." I closed my eyes as he brushed my fringe out from my eyes. "And it's not that I don't want to help you through this stuff. I'm just scared."
"Of what?"
"I don't know." For some reason, I was okay with opening up to him like this. I didn't have any secrets from him anymore. "Of a lot of things. I know love is scary. But I know I love you."
He smiled at this.
"It's just that this thing…" I trailed off and shifted closer to him, putting my head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around me, hand going to my hip. "This thing with Holly… it bothers me." I was afraid to open my eyes and see his expression.
When he spoke, his voice sounded pained. "What bothers you?"
"I'm not really sure." I thought for a moment. "There have been a lot of things bothering me since you told me. I mean, the whole virgin thing bothered me, but you said you'd wait, so… that's okay."
"Good," he said quickly. "I meant that. Really. Earlier – I didn't mean anything by it, I swear –"
"I know, I know." I kissed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it."
"Okay."
I opened my eyes to look at him. "I've always said to myself that I wanted to wait until marriage, but I mean… I think that's just a confirmation. Because I'm married now, and I'm still not ready, right?"
He nodded.
"I think that marriage normally tells someone that the relationship isn't based on the physical aspect," I whispered. "Not that it doesn't exist, just that it's not the only thing in the relationship. And just for me, personally… that's why I wanted to wait. Just to make sure it's not purely physical."
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So… you don't want to do it because you're scared I'm not in love with you?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm not worried about that at all."
"You're worried that it's all about sex?"
"No, that's not it."
"Then why are you waiting?"
"I don't know." I thought for a moment. "I just feel like so many people I've trusted have screwed me over. You included." He grinned sheepishly – but I think we were even from this whole running-away-from-each-other. "I guess I just want to take things a bit slower. But soon. I promise."
He laughed. "Emily, you know I'll wait for you. You think too much, you know that?"
I laughed. "Speaking of thinking too much…"
"Uh oh."
"The thing you told me last Saturday…" I trailed off, thinking. "It's been pretty obvious to me since I met you that you like helping people. And I get how much it upset you to think that you hurt someone instead of being able to help them."
He didn't say anything.
"As weird as it sounds, I think I understand why you told me to get over you," I said. He squirmed. "You didn't know how you hurt Holly, so I guess it makes sense. If you didn't want to hurt me."
"I don't," he corrected quietly.
"I just don't think you were the one who ruined her, Al."
He stared down at me, frozen. I could tell he was thinking hard – the gears were practically spinning in his mind – but he stayed expressionless, jaw locked. His hand, which had been previously tracing circles into my hip, had halted.
"Emily, I don't think you know what you're talking about," he said finally.
"Just hear me out." I took his hand and kissed the inside of his palm. "Look, for the past two months, I've gotten to know you, and you don't seem like a person who drives people insane. I mean, you've driven me insane, but not mentally insane."
He exhaled loudly. "Look, you–"
"No, I know you, Al," I said firmly, "and there's nothing about you or anything you do that may have caused Holly to go crazy, okay? If there was, I would've been just like her. But I'm not. You're normal, okay? You're not a monster."
"I was different at fifteen," he confessed. "I was really arrogant, really full of myself, and I honestly wasn't really the nicest person. I mean, I thought I treated Holly pretty well, but now I'm not so sure…"
I bit my lip. "Did it ever occur to you that Holly said those things because she didn't want you to break up with her?"
Al became still. "But… it's not like it worked…"
"I don't know." I was grasping at straws, because I just couldn't believe that someone like Al would do something like that, even if he didn't do it on purpose. I didn't want him to feel badly about himself for something like this. It couldn't be true. "I just don't believe her version of the story. There had to be something else."
"No, no," he said firmly, shaking his head. "No, it was me. I'm sure."
"Why?" I demanded, squeezing his hand. "Al, your story has holes in it, and quite honestly, it doesn't make much sense.
"I –"
"Why did you tell Holly you were in love with her if you weren't?"
Something inside of him seemed to snap, as though he was losing control. He suddenly looked so pained, tortured, guilty. He really did believe everything she told him, didn't he? He believed it, and then he did what he always does: he pushed it to the back of his mind and pretended it didn't matter.
Like he tried to do with me.
And he really should've learned by now that it didn't work.
"We're not talking about this anymore," he told me, taking his hand out of my grip, closing his eyes and leaning back onto the reclining bed. "Okay? We're not."
"Al…"
"We're not." His voice was shaky this time. He was finally losing resolve. I felt as though I was his weakness, and as soon as I was getting through to him, he closed up entirely. "Emily, please stop."
I took his hand and grasped it. "I'm sorry."
"Look, you know everything now," he said, "so can you just… let it go? Please?"
I didn't say anything for a few moments. Just wrapped in each other. I was struggling for words, trying to understand why exactly he was always trying to help people. Why he'd told Holly he loved her, just because it was what she wanted to hear.
"Al?" I said softly. "You don't always have to be the hero."
"What?"
"The hero." I bit my lip. "You don't have to tell people what they want to hear, and then freak out about it. You don't even have to tell me you love me if you don't yet. You don't have to go to crazy lengths to help people you don't know."
"But –"
"I understand that it's noble." I exhaled, shaking my head. "I just think that sometimes, you have to ask yourself what's best for you. If marrying a stranger is really worth giving up your safety for. If telling someone you love them when you don't is worth all the guilt, two years later."
"I…" He sighed. "Emily, I'm not a hero."
"But you're trying to be, and you're just such a good person," I said, almost affectionately. "Even if you're an asshole sometimes."
He smiled a little. "For the record, I'm glad I helped you. I'm glad I got to know you. I'm glad I got to fall in love with you."
I couldn't help but lean over him and press my lips against his.
He leaned back against the pillows, eyes drooping. Then his smile drooped. "I think I should talk to Holly. To end this whole mess, you know?"
"Yeah." I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching a little. "I'll leave you to sleep for a little while, okay? Feel better. Heal. Stop whining to the nice nurse."
"I will once she stops giving me nasty-tasting potions," he countered. I laughed and leaned over to kiss him one last time. He hummed against my lips. "Look, the war is over. Once we get out of here, we deserve a fresh start. Right?"
"Of course." I stood up properly and brushed a hand through his hair, not wanting to leave. But he looked like he was about to pass out. "See you soon." He mumbled incoherently, and I smiled.
Communication – honest communication: the key of a good relationship.
Sometimes that's a hard lesson to learn.
As I was entering the waiting room, I realized that the Potter family all had very different ways of reacting to a situation. Take Al's siblings for example: James was pacing back and forth, like he couldn't sit still, and Lily was curled up in chair, drifting in and out of sleep. Mrs. Potter was sitting beside her, staring straight ahead, tense and stiff.
I instantly felt horrible for them; their son/brother and father/husband were both caught up in this mess. Hell, I belonged there with them. How did tragedies somehow manage to bring families together?
Mrs. Potter didn't notice me until I'd gone up to her – then her eyes lit up and she threw her arms around me. It was comforting.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled into her shoulder as she squeezed me. "I didn't mean to get Al into this mess. I didn't even know what this mess was going to be like."
"It's not your fault," she insisted immediately, releasing me. "You saved him. You're a victim in this, and Al chose to get involved. In fact, I would be very surprised if this didn't happen, even if he didn't know you."
I nodded uncertainly. "Are you sure?"
"Of course –"
"Mrs. Potter?"
She jumped up as a healer called her name. My jaw dropped in surprise; it was the hot healer that Rose and I had drooled over earlier in the summer. Bloody hell, I'd forgotten all about him.
"Yes?" Mrs. Potter called, hurrying over to him. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no," he assured her, flashing her a heart-wrenching smile. How did his teeth get so white? "Mr. Potter – your husband, that is – just woke up, if you'd like to see him."
"Yes, yes, of course," she said, her face lighting up. "How's Albus doing?"
"Fine, but he's sleeping…" He lead her down the hallway. To my surprise, James collapsed into the chair beside Lily's, and she put her arms around him.
"Aren't you going to follow?" I asked, confused.
"We'll wait for the mushy stuff to be over," Lily clarified. She kissed her brother's forehead. "Oi, cheer up. It's not the end of the world."
"What happened?" I asked.
She squeezed him. "Nothing, don't worry. And by the way," she added, "none of this is your fault. In fact, you're the sole reason for making Al into a bearable person who does more than sleep, eat, write and whine."
"Yeah, now he snogs, too," I put in unhelpfully. She laughed.
"And he smiles. A lot." She gave me a grateful smile. "He really cares about you, okay? You shouldn't feel guilty because someone loves you back."
I blushed.
"Emily?" I felt a tapping on my shoulder and I turned around to see – Amy?
"What are you doing here?" I asked, flabbergasted. She looked a mess – something that was very unusual for her. Amy was the kind of person who always had perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect makeup, perfect everything, and at the moment, she looked like she'd gone through hell and back. There was dirt and grime and blood all over her, and she was gripping her wand like it was her lifeline.
I suddenly felt very self-conscious without my own wand. It was still sitting in my dorm room.
"Hi," she said awkwardly, eyeing James and Lily. They took this as their cue to slink out of the waiting room – probably to visit their dad.
"What happened to you?" I asked, sitting down with her. "Were you in the battle?"
"Oh yeah." She chuckled and looked down at her clothes. "Sort of. Holly and I blew up Azkaban, as you probably guessed."
"Could've done with a warning."
"Too risky," she said, shaking her head. "Sorry to hear about Potter, by the way. Will he be okay?"
"Yeah, I hope so." My hands fidgeted in my lap. The last time we'd talked was on that boat, when I'd found out that David had hit her, too – and for longer. Before that was at Corner's party when she was completely smashed. And before that, we still hated each other.
It was a little awkward.
Amy sighed. "Look, Emily… I'm so sorry. For everything. It was me who started the whole fiasco in fifth year, but I didn't know he would hit you –"
"I know," I cut in quickly. "It's okay."
"No, it's not." She sighed again. "It's just that I've always been jealous of you – but it's no excuse for what I did, and the fact that you went through what I did…"
"Hey," I said gently as I saw tears form in her eyes. "I understand. It still hurts. Even now."
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "He's in jail, though."
"He's what?"
"I made sure." Amy sniffed again before clearing her throat. "This might've been after you left – but at some point, aurors came to Azkaban and stopped the fight. Almost like the entire ministry was there. It was easy for them to put Azkaban back together, and I helped them put the right people behind bars."
"You helped?" I repeated. "How? Weren't you part of the Death Eaters?"
"No, no, I've been on your side for a little while." She began to fidget with her sleeves. "Around the same time I was beginning to question David, and the whole Death Eater thing, I bumped into Holly. Literally. Recognized her, got talking to her, all that. She helped me through all this shit.
"I guess that's when we started this plan," she continued, glancing to me. "I mean, there were a bunch of innocent people still in Azkaban, even after Holly's dad was murdered, you know? And the Death Eaters weren't going to let them go, because they were either pure bloods or Slytherins, so they wanted them to join the Death Eaters so they could take over."
"If they just wanted to take over, why did they take Al's dad?" I asked.
"He's a powerful wizard, I suppose," she said, shrugging. "Has a lot of influence on people. Truth is, the Death Eaters didn't want to kill muggle borns or half-bloods, and they were trying to get Mr. Potter to advance this side of the community to heed to the pure blood ideals."
"So they killed the minister…" I frowned. "Because of his laws, right?"
"Yeah, and because they needed to lure Mr. Potter into the ministry to capture him. But that book Mr. Birch wrote was apparently what set the leaders over."
"Bloody hell," I said, feeling overwhelmed as I leaned back into my chair. "Who were the leaders?"
"The Carrow siblings and Fenrir Greyback." I shuddered, and she nodded grimly. "Yeah, remember them at those dinner parties? They always creeped me out."
"Bloody hell," I repeated under my breath. "But they new Death Eaters were mostly innocent, weren't they? I mean, they were just students."
"Yes, except for a few." She looked to her knees. "Like David."
A silence fell between us.
"So," I said a few moments later, "the old Death Eaters are in imprisoned? Or is everyone going through some sort of hearing?"
"The latter." She hugged her knees to her chest. "I told the aurors who to throw immediately into jail, I had a pretty good idea who was in on it for real. The rest are in the ministry, waiting for their hearing. There's no minister, no head auror…"
"Everything's a mess," I finished, and she nodded.
"It's just all this prejudice," she said sadly. "Against muggle borns, against purebloods – whatever it is, it has to stop."
"We can hope."
"We can hope," she agreed, finally smiling. The next thing I knew, she was hugging me tightly. "I hope we can be friends again."
"Yeah," I said softly. And I did. I knew that we would never be that close again – sharing secrets, hanging out together – but I would've liked to rid of all the bitterness and animosity.
She probably needed a friend more than I did, at this point.
James and Lily came up to us as we released each other, looking slightly annoyed. I waved half-heartedly at them. "What happened?"
"Mum and Dad started snogging again," Lily grumbled as they sat down. James didn't say anything; he kept staring at the floor, looking like everything around him was crumbling. I didn't understand why – I mean, Mr. Potter and Al were okay, for the most part…
"James, what's wrong?" I asked worriedly.
"Nothing –"
"It's not nothing, Lily," he snapped, and she turned away, sulking. He put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "Holly broke up with me."
"She what?" Amy and I said together.
"Yep," he said gloomily. "Don't know why. Didn't explain."
I suddenly felt a knot tighten in my stomach. "Where is Holly?"
"She's here," Amy answered, biting her lip. "Said she wanted to talk to Potter."
Shit.
"Emily, I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Lily reassured me as I stood, suddenly feeling jittery. "Al loves you, you know that." I didn't listen; I was already hurrying off towards Al's room, fists clenched together, extremely anxious.
I mean… why did she break up with James?
Al said he was weirded out about Holly and James' relationship. Not jealous. I didn't fully believe that, because he needed closure, but I knew he didn't have feelings for her. I knew that. I wasn't stupid – I knew Al loved me, and I didn't have to worry about that – but I just didn't have a good feeling about it.
I slowed at the entrance of his room, hiding behind the door frame and peeking in, like I had last time. I could see them clearly – someone had opened all the curtains. Al was sitting up in bed. He looked like he'd been crying – absolutely exhausted and worn out and in pain. Holly was sitting beside him in bed, back to me, speaking to him. Holding his hand.
I knew it was going to happen before it did, but I was frozen. I watched helplessly as Holly leaned down and pressed her lips against his. Merlin, I knew she would do something like this – but Al evidently didn't. He jumped in surprise, and then gently pushed her back.
His gaze slid towards the door, and he saw me. His eyes were clearly apologetic and saying this-isn't-what-it-looks-like. I glared back at him, as if to say, 'Well, what does this look like?' before turning to leave.
I knew this was all Holly's doing. But could he not be so clueless?
I pursued down the hallway, not really knowing where I was going, practically fuming. One day, I was going to give that girl a piece of my mind. That she couldn't just do this to people – use them, throw them away. But I wanted Al to tell her first. And what were they talking about, anyway? Why had she kissed him?
That boy had a lot of explaining to do.
