"I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway…"


Chapter Fifteen: Another Highway

- Seventh Year -

They call it the calm before the storm. Apparently that's when everything gets all relaxed. It deceives you. Lets you believe that things may just turn out okay and everything can be fine and free and breezy. While at the same time, knowing. Knowing that none of this could possibly last, and you're left wondering how much time you've got before it all just goes to hell.

I can feel a tempest brewing. I don't want to be washed away.

( ) ( )

I've come to grips. Shed the idealistic girl I once was. Adopted the skin of a mature woman. I have been rejected. I have been scorned. I have become increasingly melodramatic. That's what madness does.

I'm sitting. Sipping. On the cup of tea that burns my hand. We're in the Common Room. And by we I mean Katie, Alicia and I. Somehow we became the Three Musketeers. The swordsmen, not the candy bar.

I have yet to tell them about Fred.

They're so honest with me. Telling me everything. Stuff I honestly have no desire to hear. I don't care what the Hufflepuff could do with his tongue, or how shockingly experienced he was considering he's only a fourth year. Katie always was the cradle-robbing thief.

But I can't bring myself to open my mouth and let the truth fall out and let them hear and judge and assume and scold. In retrospect, I was a fool. A royal fool. A class fool. A fool who let love get in the way of friendship and who let feelings cloud her already blurry judgment. I've berated myself enough over it. I don't need them to join the club. I don't think they could afford the membership fees.

But it's funny. Funny how them not knowing isolates them from me. Me from them. Us from each other. They're still carefree. Still dreaming of romps through the daisies and men that get down on one knee. I'm jaded. Sad. Cynical. Wondering where we went wrong and why I won't let him back in.

He looks the same as me now.

I see myself reflected back. Every time I catch his eye. He has my eyes now. Murky. Dark. Alone. I can see myself smirking back. The me that's lost and forgotten how to gain. Reminding me that he deserves this. He slouches now and gazes off into space. I'm afraid of what he thinks of. What it is that he's dreaming of. What it is he expects from me.

To take him back.

And I'm tempted. I really am. I see him and his rounded shoulders. I see him without the smile. Without that sparkle the magic the boy that was him. And I want to take him and grab him and tell him I'm sorry and that I forgive him and love him and want to be with him and yes, I love you, too and just stay with me and promise me that nothing bad ever happened.

But memory's a bitch.

Some wounds are too fresh and no matter how hard you try to heal them, they still burn. Still ache. Still sting and bleed. I'm in pain here. Still. I may sleep at night and smile through the day. I talk and laugh and no longer appear comatose. One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. But. But there's still that dull throbbing, that ache that no one sees. What it means to be burned, scorched, set on fire by another. And have them walk away. And let you be engulfed by their flames.

Wounds don't heal that quickly.

And I want for him to quit trying. He's no doctor and his medicine is faulty and making me hurt all the more.

( ) ( )

I think I've become a loner.

It's strange. It's strange how traveling through the whole color wheel of emotions and hitting rock bottom and climbing back out again changes a person. Not for the better. Or for the worse. But just different.

I came out the rabbit hole on the other side. It's slightly darker here.

I once believed I had it all figured out. That I knew where I was going and who I was and the person I wanted to be. Somewhere that fell to bloody pieces.

I think I'm a lost soul. A tired, lost soul. A tired, lost soul who has forgotten what it means to feel.

I'm afraid to risk it. Again. I'm afraid to talk to him. Wait for the inevitable to spring up between us. I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid of Fred Weasley.

Pathetic really.

I let him fuck me up. And now I'm running scared. Not sure where I'm running to. But the gun's gone off, and we're deep in the woods now.

I'm walking back to the tower. No one asks me where I go anymore. Some think it's Quidditch work. Others, studying for N.E.W.T.'s. There's the few that think I'm smoking pot, the random couple that started the rumor I'm shooting up heroin. And then there's the majority who believe I'm having some secret, illicit affair.

They're a few months behind on that one.

"Huckleberry jam." And I'm through the portrait hole. Coming out the other side. The Fat Lady rambling on. She annoys me. Not sure why. All the portraits, and we get her. To guard us while we sleep.

The common room is slightly crowded. A lot of last minute studying and exploding snap. And he's here. With his brother. George and him crafting plans, it appears. Hidden in the corner. Whispering and gesticulating. Hands in the air, surreptitious glances over shoulder. He looks more excited than I've seen in days. Weeks, maybe. Not that I've been watching. Or anything. I'm just observant, is all.

They're up to no good. Par usual. And I want to laugh. Laugh until my sides split and my head rolls off its shoulders and my face is soaked with tears. Laugh like I haven't laughed in what seems like years. I want to laugh at the familiarity of it all. Laugh because this is how things are supposed to be. Him making plans with his accomplice and us laughing at him in the process. Warning them of their imminent doom amid chuckles and squawks and guffaws.

But I remain silent. Stock still.

I'm staring. And I really don't give a fuck.

( ) ( )

I got to breakfast early today. Not sure why. But lying in bed was driving me mad and the sunlight was coming through the window in this certain way. It was impossible to keep still.

I get that way sometimes. Agitated. Anxious. Nervous for no reason other than all the crazy little thoughts that flit through my head.

Trying to clear your mind is bullshit. There seriously is no possible way to erase everything that muddled it up in the first place. Erasers don't work that way. And even when they do wipe it all away, you're still stuck with the remains. The ugly grey smear across the page. And the odd little rubber shavings that stick to your arms.

I can't remember the last time I was thinking clearly.

I know I must look crazy now. Sitting alone at the huge long table. The Gryffindor table. I have yet to understand why I was placed here. I'm not brave. Courage and idiocy often get confused. I've never done anything noble. Or worthy of admiration. I've acted on impulse. Forced open doors that were locked for good reason. Curiosity and stupidity shouldn't earn one a place at one of the more exalted tables. They say the Sorting Hat never makes a mistake.

Maybe I was its first.

Gryffindors don't resign themselves. Decide they'll let themselves get swept up in the tide of things. Not fight what fate has in store for them. I don't think they curl up in a ball and cry when things get ugly. Things should make sense. Life should have a reason. People should have a purpose. Right now, none of that's true. I am lost. I want to leave, but I long to stay. Leaving means I'm gone from here. The past can become that shadow. This building here, a relic. But I don't know where I'll go. I don't know what I'll do. I'll be a wanderer. A nomad. A nobody. But if I stay. I stay and live among the memories that haunt my every step. I live with him. His face. The state I've placed him in. But I'll have a home and a warm bed to sleep in. Three square meals a day.

In-between is no place to be. But somehow it's become my world.

I hear footsteps. Echoing across the tiled floor. I never noticed how shiny that floor is. How you can see the ceiling reflected back. In each of the glossy tiles.

They're coming closer. Heavy thuds. A man not a woman. A man not a boy. Pounding the pavement, the tile, beneath his feet.

No one comes to breakfast this early.

There's nothing here to eat.

And I know who it is. Before I even see him.

Him.

It's always him.

He freezes when he sees me. Blanches. Noticeably. I'm not supposed to be here. Either. We're not supposed to be here. We shouldn't even exist.

I'm biting my lip and willing myself to look. Look. At him. Look and see. What it means to try and right one's life. Right it and make it wrong.

He's just looking at me. I can see the options. Dancing through his heads. Cut and run. Pretend this never happened. Or stay and beg and plead. And yell. Fight. Argue. Scream. Wait for me to say no. Again.

He chooses the former.

Fred Weasley never was a stupid boy.

( ) ( )

I walked away. He walked away. And I'm not sure where each of us traveled to.

There's always tomorrow. There's always tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow never comes. I'm looking to tomorrow. I've given up on living for the present. I let the present get all kinds of fucked up. But tomorrow still looks good. Promising. The grass is always greener on the other side. Or so they say. But I quit trusting them a while ago. They'll have to do a bit more than discuss landscaping to earn my trust again.

There's always tomorrow.

( ) ( )

I'm in the library. Reading up on Charms. I'm nervous for the exam. Charms has never been my strong point. Lately, everything's been weak.

I'm waiting for Madam Pince to kick me out. I've been here a while. And she hates nothing more than a loiter. Especially when her shift is up. Dim the lanterns and lock the doors.

I look over my stack of books. And he's found his way to me. Again. Maybe he's not as smart as I thought he was.

I just look. Repress any cutting remark that may find its way to my tongue. I've done enough verbal damage.

He attempts a smile. He looks like his teeth are being pulled out. His smile would send children into hysterics. Make old women cry. His smile makes me want to die.

"Hey," he mutters. He's muttering. Fred Weasley doesn't believe in low decibel levels.

I just nod. Words and me don't get along. And he makes it so hard to speak. Too hard. And not worth it.

He's nodding too. And not stopping. Kind of bopping his head. As he glances around. The darkened bookshelves. And dusty tomes. And me. I'm aged too.

He finally catches my eye. And his eyes are burning, blazing, on fire. My chest hurts. I wonder if this is how a heart attack feels. I hope not. But it's pressing down on me, and my sternum will surely crack.

"Fred, why are you here?"

He looks at me. Like I'm the crazy one here.

"I…I need to try. One last time. I just need to…try." I know where this is going. But doubt that I'll be able to stop him.

"Fred…"

"No. No. Listen, listen to me. I can't do this anymore. I can't - - be here anymore. Not like this. I'm going fucking mad. Ange, I'm sorry. I am so bloody sorry it makes me sick. And – and, I just don't…get…why you won't have me back."

I want to tell him. I want to tell him I've been here before. Traveled over the map and filled in all the little points. I laid the bricks he's walking on right now. It hurts. But so did I.

I need to get out. I need to escape everything. Everything that has shaped me into this person I've unwittingly, and unwillingly, become.

He's not going to carry me out of here.

I look at him. And watch his spirits fall.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. Knowing the words mean nothing.

He nods. Not speaking. I know what it feels like to try to speak. Try to speak when your throat is full of tears.

I know.

( ) ( )

Walking back, I wonder. Wonder if I did right. Know that I did wrong.

I just need time. Time.

I find him in the Common Room. With George and Lee. Lee has his arms crossed over his chest. Shaking his head. Letting his dreads swing through the air. Telling the twins in front of him. Telling them how he thinks it's a bad idea and how it will surely get them kicked out.

I wonder what the idea is.

"What if that's exactly what we want?" George has the sly, Weasley grin bestowed on his lips.

"We've got nothing left to stay for." Fred. He watches me while he says those words. I catch his meaning. And the drop in my stomach.

He's got nothing left to stay for. Guess that includes me.

He's not going to give me time.

( ) ( )

They do it. The swamp. Make Umbridge shriek and shout and Filch dance with glee.

Apparently they're supposed to be whipped. I don't believe it'll happen. They're crafty boys. And this woman must have forgotten that.

They give a speech. Surrounded by peers. And me. And call for their brooms. And amid the noise, the confusion. The shouting. Cheering. Jeering. Yelling. They mount and kick off.

They fly away. He flies away. Up and out the window. Up and out the castle. Up and out. Out. Of me.

Alicia and Katie and Lee. All jumping for joy. Like it's bloody Christmas. I'm standing still. Rooted to the spot. Among a crowd in motion.

He left me.

( ) ( )

There's always tomorrow.

The mantra that has tided me over for the last couple days that have felt like years. That has tided me over every day since yesterday. Tomorrow. We can fix things. Tomorrow. But tomorrow's not going to come. For us. The sun has set. Set as he jumped up and flew away. Flew off into the setting sun. The blood-red sun. The sun set the color to match his head. And the color of my heart.

There's always tomorrow. Unless it's already come and gone.

( ) ( )

"I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long…"

( ) ( )

A/N: Song lyrics from These Days – Nico

I apologize for the delay in updating. I just moved into my dorm room a few days ago, and the days before that were all crazy, emotional packing days. And classes have just begun, so I've been insanely busy lately. But I hope you enjoy this installment. And I'm almost positive the epilogue will be next, but I may decide to throw in an extra chapter before that. We'll see. But thanks for all the amazing reviews. Y'all are too good to me. Please continue reading and do review!