Chapter 22
"I don't care what you think," I continued. "I know you think that you aren't worth anything. That is why you act the way you do. But I know the truth."
"And what is the truth, Miss Cockerham?" He sat back down in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he often did.
"The truth is that you are a good person--"
He snorted.
"I mean it," I said firmly and smacked my fists on the mattress in frustration. He seemed worried for a moment and uncrossed his arms, as if he was preparing to grab me, for fear that I might throw a fit. "Just listen, okay? Don't interrupt," I commanded, and Snape looked almost pleased that I was taking charge. "It doesn't bother me that you act so aloof and mean. I understand that that is how you gain respect from your students, but you already have my respect."
"Miss Cockerham, I think you sometimes forget that you also are a student of mine," he said slowly.
"Oh!" I yelled. "So now you're going to give me the speech are you? The, 'I'm sorry but you're my pupil and I can't have anything to do with you' speech, right? That isn't fair! You can't just start something like this and then expect to turn it off like a switch!"
"Miss Cockerham, please--"
"It's Miss Cockerham again then? Not Meta?" I laughed bitterly. "Well, fine."
There was a moment of silence while I silently fumed. Then he said,
"Franco- he loved you, didn't he?"
"Yes," I said. I was so surprised at the question that I forgot that I was angry. I looked down at the stiching on the white quilt and followed the little lines around and around.
"And, did you love him?"
"Yes. Of course--" My voice broke for a moment and I could feel my throat begin to tighten. "Of course I loved him," The tears were coming back again, just when I thought I would be all right. "I did love him, just not the way he wanted me to," By now the tears were streaming down my face again, like a healing wound reopened. "And he knew-- he knew that I loved someone else, and I'll never forgive myself for that."
"It's not your fault," I heard Snape say, but I fumbled on.
"Yes it is! I could have just asked him to stay here for the holiday and he would have in a flash. But no, I wanted him gone so that I could hide you from him," I was sobbing pathetically and I strained to get the words out between gasps. "I wanted him gone so that he wouldn't know that I was meeting you. How stupid is that? If I weren't so selfish he would still be alive! He was my best friend, and I turned him away. I turned him away like he was nothing."
Snape was silent, but I felt his cold hand close around mine. After a moment or two he let go and left without saying a word.
The first week after Franco's death was a strange haze. I can't remember much of it now. I think that I just walked around like a zombie, somehow managing to go to class, somehow managing to do my schoolwork, somehow managing to go to his funeral. After that, the days got steadily better. One day I would have a few minutes in a row when I wouldn't think about Franco, the next day it might be half an hour, and on and on, until I could go for days without thinking of his death. It is not as though I wanted to forget about him completely. I just wanted to block him out for a while until I could think about his face and smile. Often times I would hear a funny joke or have a story to tell, and I would think to myself, I'll have to tell Franco about that later. Then I would remember that I couldn't tell him anything anymore.
A month after Franco's death I laughed, and felt immediately guilty for it. It seemed to come out of nowhere. Leila McHedgridge was running through a corridor, trying to get to Muggle Studies on time, when she ran into an invisible barrier constructed by Samuel Portsmouth, the class clown. She smacked into it with a very surprised look on her face, and then backed up and ran into it again. I saw it all, and a short laugh escaped my throat. It was the most wonderful thing to laugh again. It felt so good, but so wrong at the same time.
It is my fault that Franco isn't here to laugh with me...
If I couldn't even laugh without feeling guilty, I knew it would be a long time before I could even look at Snape again.
"I don't care what you think," I continued. "I know you think that you aren't worth anything. That is why you act the way you do. But I know the truth."
"And what is the truth, Miss Cockerham?" He sat back down in the chair and crossed his arms in front of his chest as he often did.
"The truth is that you are a good person--"
He snorted.
"I mean it," I said firmly and smacked my fists on the mattress in frustration. He seemed worried for a moment and uncrossed his arms, as if he was preparing to grab me, for fear that I might throw a fit. "Just listen, okay? Don't interrupt," I commanded, and Snape looked almost pleased that I was taking charge. "It doesn't bother me that you act so aloof and mean. I understand that that is how you gain respect from your students, but you already have my respect."
"Miss Cockerham, I think you sometimes forget that you also are a student of mine," he said slowly.
"Oh!" I yelled. "So now you're going to give me the speech are you? The, 'I'm sorry but you're my pupil and I can't have anything to do with you' speech, right? That isn't fair! You can't just start something like this and then expect to turn it off like a switch!"
"Miss Cockerham, please--"
"It's Miss Cockerham again then? Not Meta?" I laughed bitterly. "Well, fine."
There was a moment of silence while I silently fumed. Then he said,
"Franco- he loved you, didn't he?"
"Yes," I said. I was so surprised at the question that I forgot that I was angry. I looked down at the stiching on the white quilt and followed the little lines around and around.
"And, did you love him?"
"Yes. Of course--" My voice broke for a moment and I could feel my throat begin to tighten. "Of course I loved him," The tears were coming back again, just when I thought I would be all right. "I did love him, just not the way he wanted me to," By now the tears were streaming down my face again, like a healing wound reopened. "And he knew-- he knew that I loved someone else, and I'll never forgive myself for that."
"It's not your fault," I heard Snape say, but I fumbled on.
"Yes it is! I could have just asked him to stay here for the holiday and he would have in a flash. But no, I wanted him gone so that I could hide you from him," I was sobbing pathetically and I strained to get the words out between gasps. "I wanted him gone so that he wouldn't know that I was meeting you. How stupid is that? If I weren't so selfish he would still be alive! He was my best friend, and I turned him away. I turned him away like he was nothing."
Snape was silent, but I felt his cold hand close around mine. After a moment or two he let go and left without saying a word.
The first week after Franco's death was a strange haze. I can't remember much of it now. I think that I just walked around like a zombie, somehow managing to go to class, somehow managing to do my schoolwork, somehow managing to go to his funeral. After that, the days got steadily better. One day I would have a few minutes in a row when I wouldn't think about Franco, the next day it might be half an hour, and on and on, until I could go for days without thinking of his death. It is not as though I wanted to forget about him completely. I just wanted to block him out for a while until I could think about his face and smile. Often times I would hear a funny joke or have a story to tell, and I would think to myself, I'll have to tell Franco about that later. Then I would remember that I couldn't tell him anything anymore.
A month after Franco's death I laughed, and felt immediately guilty for it. It seemed to come out of nowhere. Leila McHedgridge was running through a corridor, trying to get to Muggle Studies on time, when she ran into an invisible barrier constructed by Samuel Portsmouth, the class clown. She smacked into it with a very surprised look on her face, and then backed up and ran into it again. I saw it all, and a short laugh escaped my throat. It was the most wonderful thing to laugh again. It felt so good, but so wrong at the same time.
It is my fault that Franco isn't here to laugh with me...
If I couldn't even laugh without feeling guilty, I knew it would be a long time before I could even look at Snape again.