December 24, 2022
Deidre arrives at my house on Christmas Eve with her family and a new haircut. Her formerly loose curls are now more-defined as the ends tickle her chin. She kisses my mum on the cheek and hands her soda bread and a jar of jam.
"It's boysenberry," Diedre tells Mum with a smile.
Earlier, Mum had told me how excited she is Deidre and I have made up, making our Christmas Eve dinners more exciting with Deidre's family in tow. Finn, her older brother, immediately makes a beeline for Jane, who is much closer to his age than anyone else. Separated by a mere two years with Finn being older, he and Jane spent a lot of time together growing. There was even a short time last year when Jane helped him out in the shop.
At least that's how my parents tell it, but it's hard to believe it wasn't Finn helping Jane out.
There hugs and kisses exchanged between everyone, and Mum comments about being famished, prompting us to take our places at the magically enlarged dining table.
.
During dinner, Jane reaches out to pass the mashed potatoes over to Deidre's dad, and the sleeves of her sweater ride up, showing off clean, smooth wrists dotted with barely visible veins and a small, dark birthmark.
I stare at her wrists and, with a sinking feeling in my stomach, understand that without magic, they'd be covered in scars. I think she catches me staring because her gaze looks to the same spot for a moment. She clears her throat and excuses herself to the bathroom.
.
After dinner, after goodbyes and more exchanged hugs and kisses, after Deidre hands me a small package wrapped in silver paper and I slip her a shiny, green gift bag in return, I am drying dishes in the kitchen as Jane hands them to me. We hum along to Christmas tunes on the radio and do not look each other in the eye.
Mum enters the kitchen, her iridescent dress whirling behind her as she rounds the corner. She is holding a snow globe in one hand and her earrings in the other.
"Almost done?" she asks, placing the snow globe on the small, round table missing its chairs. "Your father wants to watch a movie as a family."
"Another couple of minutes," Jane responds without looking away from her working hands.
"Hm," Mum hums and turns to me. "Nora, I was thinking about how you asked to get your nose pierced. Maybe if you lose ten pounds, we could take you to the shop."
I turn away from her, frowning, and open the upper cabinet to the right of the sink, placing a mug in its proper home. I turn back around with an indifferent face and wait for Jane to finish whatever is next.
"Alright, Mum," I lie through my teeth and then show them to her with a forced smile.
I lean back against the counter, the striped dishtowel balled in my fist, as she walks out the way she came, her dress shimmering in the soft lighting. I look down at my plaid trousers and thinking about the fat around my knees.
"So," Jane says, handing me a scotch glass with a little soap still floating on the bottom, "James Potter, huh?"
I let out a short, quiet laugh.
.
Later, after what felt like an endless movie with reindeer and Christmas cheer, I lock the door to my bedroom, its pale orange walls holding me in a warm embrace. My father always said the color was too bright, too loud. The kids at grade school said the same about me until every word that left my lips was laced with insecurity and uncertainty.
The radio on my desk plays a joyful tune, the kind where you can hear the singer smiling through the words. I close the curtains atop my window and look around, knowing there is nobody in sight. I slowly push my trousers down my legs and step out of them, kicking the denim across the wood floor. I look down at my thighs for a moment, the way they jut toward each other at the top, the slight irritation where they rub against one another as I walk. I reach down and feel the new, prickly hairs. And then I take a deep breath in and try to clear my mind of perceptions outside my own.
I dance. I smile as I spin. I laugh when I tumble. I feel free.
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December 29, 2022
The 29th is a dreary Thursday. I step out of the fireplace in the house of one of my mum's model friends. The stylish furniture around me is modern and minimalist, and I feel a touch of loneliness looking at the lack of clutter. For a woman as clean as my mum, she loves clutter. Canisters and draperies and glass bowls filled with fake lemons. And this trait found a cozy home in me, as well.
My mum's friend isn't home, and I double-check that I secured the door to her flat on my way out.
I step out onto a busy London street a few blocks from my destination and check the watch on my wrist for the time. Mum says I can get a cell phone once I graduate from Hogwarts and have use for it more than three and half months out of the year, so for now, my father's old analog watch helps me keep time.
Still, though, I am a few minutes late meeting Natalia. Her blue hair helps me find her easily in the cafe, and she doesn't notice me in my muted clothes and messy hair until I sit across from her.
"Nora," is all she says at first, attempting to hide a smile behind her coffee.
"What'd you order?" I slip my coat off my shoulders and onto the back of my chair, but keep my scarf around my neck. The tips of my earrings, miniature windchimes charmed so only I can hear their subtle tune, brush up against the top of the scarf. The earrings were my gift from Deidre, and the scarf is from Jane.
"Just a cappuccino; I was going to wait for you to get here, be polite and have manners like my mum taught me, but it was just so cold." She adjusts her glasses; they're black today.
I think of James and the obvious way he shoves his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his index finger. The flash of his image in my mind makes my heart and face grow hot, and I excuse myself to go order my own drink.
Regret, guilt, and panic rush through my veins. Rose was right; what am I doing here?
.
After waiting a while for my drink, rejoining Natalia, and engaging in forced conversation, Natalia zippers her jacket with a blush spread across her cheeks and a lack of pep in her step. We step out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk in uncomfortable silence.
"Nora, I have to ask," Natalia begins looking away from me, "do you even like girls? I usually have a good sense of these things, but maybe I've made a mistake here."
"Honestly, Natalia, I didn't know I liked boys until I was, like, thirteen, and it's just been a confusing mind fuck from there." I tap the sidewalk with the tip of my foot, hands shoved firmly into my pockets. I search for her eyes to find mine, and miraculously, I think she gains momentary confidence and throws me a glance. Her blue eyes remind me of why I'm here in the first place, but they do not satiate my guilt or regret. At the very least, I feel like I can force some honesty through the lump in my throat.
"I find you beautiful," I breathe, continuing. "I really, truly do. And I knew you were flirting with me that first day you sat next to me in Defense. And maybe if the timing were different… I think I do like girls, I just…"
"Already like somebody else," Natalia finishes. "And from your hesitation, I'm assuming they aren't a girl."
"No." A nervous chuckle escapes my throat. "I shouldn't have come out with you today."
"No, you shouldn't have."
I think I could fall in love with Natalia if I hadn't already done so with James.
Love. I call it that in my head, even though I wouldn't dare say it out loud.
The look in Natalia's eyes reminds me of Howie on the quidditch pitch, his hands in his pockets, his guarded posture, his cautious but brave words. They say two is a coincidence and three a pattern, but hurting two people with my carelessness and self-searching feels like more than a coincidence.
I wish self-awareness was the only thing I needed to change.
"I'm sorry."
.
I didn't tell my mum or dad about the not-date and, instead, told a half-truth about needing some extra supplies for school. I end up in Diagon Alley by the late afternoon, first stopping in Flourish and Blotts to check out any new magical young adult romances.
As promised, I devoured the book Albus bought for me quickly. I am aching for more.
Scouring the young adult section for something interesting and yet unseen by my eyes, I feel a firm tap on my shoulder as I crouch down to look at the too-often forgotten bottom shelves.
"Nora Finnigan, darling, whatever are you doing in London?" Rose asks me from above.
I rise from my crouch and hug my best friend. "Honestly? Shame shopping after my mistake of a not-date with Natalia."
"You could have just said, 'Rose, you were right,' and it would have been all the same."
"But then you would have said, 'I'm always right, love. What are you on about?'" I crouch down once more and grab a hardcover whose spine caught my eye.
"James is downstairs buying ink," Rose tells me as I stand again.
She is met with my silence.
"He's buying you a present," she continues. "He's on the line right now. It's a fairly long one if you'd like to catch up with him."
I stop for a moment, staring at her, or rather, letting my eyes glaze over as I stare in her direction. I think of jackets placed onto shoulders, fingers resting on forearms, and that old chudley canons t-shirt. Camellias and dandelions. Sunlight and desire. The taste of nectarines. Buttercups tucked behind ears and drunk, sloppy kisses planted onto cheeks in silly victory. Nora, he stated for attention. Nora, he shouted kindly. Nora, he whispered.
Probably easier to just face your feelings.
I thank Rose and turn to walk, declarations of love or whatever dancing through my mind as I hurry down flights of stairs. It feels a lot like the romantic comedies my mum watches in between jobs and jogs. I am running and feeling and thinking of beautiful and romantic things I could say to him about stolen glances or hands-on arms but all I can get out when I surprise him in line for the register, pushing through the people behind him, is, "Hello."
He turns around slowly, balancing ink and a few books in his hands. The top cover looks to be littered with doodles of herbs and foliage. I try not to let my mind linger too long on the smile that forms on his face. The familiar fear of his rejection pools in my belly.
"Nora," he says, echoing Natalia from earlier, but this time, it sends a shiver up my spine.
"Rose found me upstairs looking for more books to read." I hold up the maroon hardcover with gold lettering. "It's so hard to find contemporary literature with this style of artwork for the cover."
"I don't know, I kind of like the cartoon drawings your usual books sport."
James steps ahead as the line moves, and I follow. The customer behind us sends a dirty look my way as they realize I am basically cutting the line, but they don't say a word.
"Always nice to change it up, though," I offer in return.
There is a moment of silence as James looks down to the things in his hands and then all around him as if he's looking for something lost. I look around, too, just to be sure I'm not missing anything.
And then, he says, "I think we should talk soon."
I look up and into his eyes, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. At least I think that's how the saying goes. I feel a tinge of embarrassment as I understand the weight of my silence before pushing out an, "Alright."
"Not right now, of course," he continues, again stepping forward as the line moves. It's a few steps before we stop as what looks like a large family walks away from the register and towards the doors. "I'd say we could meet up over the holiday or something, but my family is headed to Italy tomorrow until the night before we go back to school."
"I've never been to Italy," is what rushes from my mouth before I have a chance to think. James chuckles in a way that does not offend me.
"Wait," I continue, feeling a slight indignance. "You actually just said the words 'I think we should talk soon,' all full of intention and depth and whatever, and then told me I'll have to wait another week or so to find out what that means."
"Yes," he nods, stepping forward once more before placing his items on the counter to be rung up. "I think after making me wait for you to start acknowledging me again, it's only fair you be alright with waiting a few days for me to return from a trip."
I am silent and astounded by his forwardness, and stand with my eyes widened in his direction as he goes through the purchasing process, using my distraction to take my book from my hand and add it to his order.
Honestly, I don't put up much of a fight.
After, when he's handed me my book in its bag and guided me out of the shop doors, James roots through his stuff and pulls out a leather-bound book. He considers it in his hand for a moment before holding it out to me.
"Happy Christmas," he says.
"What?"
"It's for you, Nora," he holds it out further. "I picked it out for you."
I take it from his hand and feel the delicate, brown leather, tracing a finger over the intricate tree design on the cover with its roots showing on the bottom. It looks like an old necklace sitting in my mum's jewelry box from her bohemian days, or so she calls them.
"Thank you," I say, turning it over, opening it to feel the pages, running the deep green ribbon marker between my fingers. "I didn't get you anything."
"You have a week," he offers with a shrug and a smile.
"Just tell me — if you want, of course…" I take a moment to place the journal into my bag to gather all of my bravery. "There is something I am unsure of from that night with the…" I glance around us. "Drugs. And I think that maybe I said something important, but I don't know. Is that what this is about? Did I say it aloud?"
He says my name once more. Then, "If I didn't know you already, I'd have a very hard time following what you mean."
"James." I huff and raise my eyebrows.
He looks at me, a smile slowly inching its way up his cheeks.
"I wish it had been me, too."
He holds my gaze as the noise around us becomes muffled, like white noise, until all I know is the sight of his face and the sound of my breathing and the thought, Merlin, if I faint in front of this beautiful boy again, I will never forgive myself.
My body is vibrating. There are vindication and validation in my chest, but there are also fear, anxiety, and irrational but maybe rational worry.
James reaches out, worry forming in his brown eyes, and places a delicate hand on my shoulder.
"Nora!" Rose shouts as she exits Flourish and Blotts. "I bought a book that isn't for school!"
I take a step out of James's reach, and his hand falls to his side as I turn to Rose. As if falling out of slow motion, Diagon Alley becomes clear once more at the sight of my best friend's smiling face. If she didn't bring me out of a literal anxiety attack, I might've resented her for shattering the very moment she was hoping I'd have.
"I'm so proud of you," I laugh. "You'll have to tell me all about it as you read!"
Rose glances between James and me with a knowing and secretive look, but chooses, for once, to say nothing. I turn back to James to see him rubbing the back of his neck as he looks around us at the witches and wizards running errands, seeing friends, or maybe going on first dates.
"I think it's time to head back to mine," he says.
"I'll let you two say goodbye then," she returns, walking away quickly so we haven't a chance to react.
I take a step closer to him once more, fighting a smile. It wins.
He seems to have a hard time holding my gaze now that the moment feels lost. I look at his jumper and leather jacket and think if I saw him on the street or in the park or wherever, I might see him as somebody totally different from the boy I have gotten to know these past few months. I wonder how much there is left of him to learn.
"I'll see you in a week," I offer.
"It'll be a long one," he says, gaze moving from just over my shoulder to my hand. He reaches as if to take it but maybe loses his bravery as his palm ghosts over my skin. "Until then."
"Until then," I return.
He turns on his feet to follow Rose, and after a few steps, takes the chance of looking back at me.
I am still smiling.
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AN: When I am done with this first draft of Ask Anonymous, I have some plans for reworking it into an original fiction. I think one of the main changes will be Natalia's gender because I hate what I did here in dangling a queer love interest in readers' faces just to snatch it away. As a queer woman myself, I think I wanted to open up the door for a queer main in this story, and while Nora can still be queer without this subplot, I don't think it's fair to use queerness to further a story. Despite an actual admittance of queerness on Nora's part and Natalia's firm sureness in her sexuality, it still feels too much like queer-baiting for my comfort as a queer woman. But, of course, I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts who has them!
All my love3
PS: I giggled lots while writing this so I hope it's good romance!