The unofficial title of this chapter: Breakdown/Breakout. So I was trying to show how everything she'd been going through the whole year had finally caught up with her. It's supposed to be like the "rock bottom" scene. Having said that, I don't think it came out very well at all. Not to mention that it took this long to write something this bad. Oh well, can't win them all. I promise you the next chapter will make up for this. I hope…
Anyway…here ya go! And don't forget to review. Even flames are welcome. Feedback is feedback. Thanks in advance!
The days drifted by, and Angelina likewise drifted farther from her friends. Of course, she was still a relentless captain and steadfast student, but in the instances of life between Quidditch and classes she was seldom to be found in the company of others.
Each morning Angelina would wake with the dawn and soar around the pitch on her now-worn Nimbus 2010. On her broom, she could fly faster than her thoughts could keep up with her. She could leave all her worries wrapped tightly away in a ball in the ground and be at peace for even a short while.
And every morning after her flight, she would walk back to her common room past the Hospital Wing where Montague still remained disoriented. She knew of a fair few Slytherins that would occasionally visit him, but she couldn't help wondering what he did with the other hours of the day, just laying there.
Perhaps it was empathy towards someone that might be just as lonely as she, but one morning Angelina entered the wing. She left her broom at the door and vainly wiped her hands off on the sides of her training robes. Madame Pomfrey, though disapproving of the girl's disheveled state, allowed her in to see if Montague was even awake.
She walked up towards David's bed as he sat up sipping a pale grey liquid from a glass. His eyes locked on hers, and he immediately looked at the empty beds around him to see whom the unfamiliar girl could have been visiting. She cracked a smile and cleared her throat. "Good morning, David."
He was at least capable of recognizing his name, and perked up as he was addressed. "Right. Do I know you then, too?"
Angelina felt a little hopeless knot form in her stomach as his eyes scanned her, searching for some sort of recognition. She nodded. David shrugged and motioned for her to sit at the chair next to his bed. Angelina proceeded to introduce herself to him. "It's nice to meet you, Angelina. Did you know my mum and dad were here yesterday?"
She frowned, remembering his parents visiting more than a week earlier, and attributed the time lapse to his condition. "That's nice. Was it a good visit?"
He screwed up his face, trying to remember if it had indeed been a good visit, but quickly forgot what he was trying to think of, and instead began to chat idly of other things. Angelina sighed and resigned to speaking of little, unimportant things. Time passed quickly though, and she found that the first classes of the day were only minutes away.
As she stood and pardoned herself, his hand shot out and touched hers. She raised an eyebrow and looked at his concerned expression. "Miss, will you come back again tomorrow?"
She thought carefully about it for a few minutes and nodded. She didn't mind sitting with him, and it was better than being alone. He smiled with a sort of relief that made Angelina uncomfortable. She quickly grabbed her broom and ran for Gryffindor tower in hope of a shower before her first class.
As the hot water swept away the traces of dirt and sweat from her skin, she couldn't help but think of Montague alone in the wing, nearly desperate for company while she tried so hard to avoid it.
True to her word, she returned the next morning. Once again, he was sitting up, sipping the grey potion from his glass. He set it down and eyed her warily as she sat beside him once more. "And who are you?"
Angelina bit back the retort she had toward his rudeness and instead reintroduced herself. Satisfied with her answer, he began asking little questions about her. Simple things like her age and favorite color, things she never expected to be asked about by the likes of him.
By the end of their time together, he asked her once more to return the next day. She promised, and even though she knew he probably wouldn't know the difference between tomorrow and next month, she returned. She returned every morning at the same time to find him sitting and sipping his drink.
Over the next week, his condition improved so that he remembered her from day to day. He would smile widely and set his glass down as she approached each morning, and Angelina felt herself smiling back. His memory still hazy, she would answer all his questions about who he was and what he was like openly and honestly, careful not to omit even the personality traits she found displeasing in him.
When he wasn't bombarding her with such questions, they would talk about other wholly unimportant things with Angelina even going so far as to nick muggle books and stories from the library to read to David. He enjoyed listening to her speak, and she enjoyed the simplicity of their mornings.
One day, she came into the wing carrying a new book. "Morning, Montague. Ever heard of Romeo and Juliet? Ah, suppose you wouldn't, seeing at your memory's all wonky. And I don't think Slytherins ever take Muggle Studies, do they? Not really your style…"
David just shrugged as she sat down in her chair and handed it to him. He looked appraisingly over the cover as she spoke. "Written by a muggle chap named Shakespeare. It's about these two people – a boy and a girl. They're in love but their families are enemies."
David handed back the book as she gave a scene-by-scene summary of the play and occasionally quoted the characters' best lines. "Oh be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called…"
She was cut off mid rant by a hand on her arm. "Angie?"
"Yeah?"
"Why does she keep mentioning his name? Does she not like the name 'Romeo'?"
Angelina closed the book and smiled slightly. "No, it's all to do with his family, like I was saying earlier. I guess I didn't mention it. His name is Romeo Montague."
He paused, deep in thought, and nodded moments later for her to continue. She did, finishing her summary of the book minutes later. She smiled and passed the book back to him, which he gladly accepted. "It seems like everyone in the book was a tragedy."
"Yeah, I know, but I think most people are tragic."
"Even you and me, Angelina?"
She gave a small snort of laughter. "Definitely."
"How am I tragic?"
"You're in love."
"Love is tragic?"
"Oh yes, David. It's one of the worst kinds."
He looked as though this whole love business were only mildly interesting. "Who am I in love with?"
"Me, David."
"Ah. And do you love me back?"
"No."
"Why is that? Have I done something wrong?"
"No, I just can't love anybody."
"But if you could, do you think-"
"Most likely, yes."
"That's good then."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each thinking about what was said. Angelina could have sworn she'd seen a flicker of the old Montague in his eyes. She was now torn between missing the old David and enjoying this one. He was her little secret. But then again, he always sort of had been.
She looked up at the clock, but quickly remembered that it was a Hogsmeade day, which meant no classes. She looked back at David only to find him staring intently at her. His eyes narrowed, and she was sure she saw the old Montague veiled within them. "Why do you come here every morning?"
She thought carefully about the question. She could simply say she merely passed the wing after her morning sessions, but it wouldn't be entirely true. She could say it was because she pitied him, but that wasn't quite the right either. So she decided on the closest thing to the whole truth. The reason she was even awake that early to begin with. "I don't sleep well."
"I didn't used to either. But then I was given a reason to wake up each day. I know that when I wake up, you'll come by to talk to me. You never fail me. So I go to sleep at night knowing the next day will bring me a not only a chance to get better, but you. Maybe you just don't have a good enough reason to wake up each day."
"You're right," she began after considering his words momentarily, "I don't think I do."
David patted the bed next to him. Angelina stood from her chair and edged onto the bed, reluctantly allowing herself to sit that closely to him. "You know, I could be your reason, Angelina."
She felt him lean in towards her, and despite her apprehension, she let her fingers find his as they kissed. She felt a hand gently guiding her to a pillow as his body slid gracefully over hers. She felt herself slipping away with each delightful kiss until she could no longer tell whether she was still awake or dreaming. She only felt herself curl up longingly in his arms as they both drifted into sleep.
Madame Pomfrey walked by the two and considered waking the girl and driving her angrily from the wing. But she noticed their uniforms – Gryffindor and Slytherin, and remembering the Sorting Hat's song earlier that year, allowed them their harmless moment. If these two, rivals tooth and nail, could find peace in one another, there was hope yet alive.
She awoke hours later with a start. A glance at the clock revealed it to be almost two in the afternoon. Everyone would be in Hogsmeade, wondering where she was. And if they came back here and caught her with…
She looked beside her to see nothing but wrinkled, empty sheets. David was gone. She jumped up from the bed and found Madame Pomfrey sorting vials of different remedies by color. The nurse turned around and gave Angelina a knowing smile. Angelina wanted to scream and break something. "He's gone, dearie. Left just a bit before you woke up. I finally found a cure for him. Though there wasn't too much left to do. It seems like he really just needed a bit of attention…"
Angelina rolled her eyes at the nurse's innuendo and left the room in a huff. She didn't quite know what she was pissed about, but that never stopped her before. She made her way to the Great Hall for some food, finding none other than Montague sitting at the Slytherin table, surrounded by an assortment of cooing females.
He gave a little glance of acknowledgement to the Gryffindor, but nothing more. As she opened her mouth to speak to him, his attention was taken by a curvy blonde's fingers along his jaw, pulling him to her. Angelina fought her gag reflex. So much for food.
Evening rolled around, along with a heavy rainstorm. Angelina's attempts at practice failed miserably, and she was now alone. Landing, she dragged her mud-splattered broom and ball crate across the field to the locker rooms. "The drowned-rat look doesn't suit you at all, Angelina."
Without missing a beat, Angelina continued her trek. "Hah. So you're talking to me again? And I didn't even have to come on to you."
"You know, you're so cute when you get all dirty and indignant like that."
"Don't you have some little twit to shag right now?"
"Nah, that's not 'til later. Hey! Geez, I was just kidding…slow down! I'm trying to talk to you."
Angelina merely looked over her shoulder as she made to climb the steps to the locker rooms. "I really don't need to hear anything you have to say."
"Well, you're going to listen anyway."
Angelina felt herself being grabbed roughly by the arm and swung around face to face David. Beads of rainwater dripped from his nose and chin, and the rain made his shirt cling to his well-toned form. Not that she was looking, of course. "Get your hands off me!"
His grip tightened, and Angelina snapped. He'd been trouble since the moment she'd met him. And she was tired of being pushed around and lectured by the likes of him…and Fred…and Voldemort…her parents…
The back of her free hand collided with his left cheek. Stunned, he let go of her, and Angelina could only see red as she pounced on him and alternated between hits and trying to claw his eyes out. David recovered from his initial shock and struggled to control the irate girl. It took nearly all his strength to pin her arms down from above her, using the rest of his body weight to immobilize her legs.
"You've lost your damned mind, Johnson!"
She didn't respond, but only worked harder against him. Eventually managing to wriggle one arm free, she elbowed him in the chest hard enough to loosen his hold on her. She climbed out from underneath him and ran for the stairs.
Montague stood, slowly rubbing the soon-to-be bruise. "Look at you, you've gone to pieces."
She hesitated, but continued walking into the building. He followed. "At the end of the day, you can't even recognize yourself anymore, can you? Choking with fear, abandoned, and desperate."
Angelina disappeared into the Gryffindor locker room. She could have pulled the door shut behind her – made sure David would stay out; but consciously or not, she allowed him the opportunity to enter behind her. He trailed her and made sure the door was locked behind them. "I know what you want. You've been wanting to do it since this all began – the unraveling of your happy little world."
He turned the corner to find Angelina sitting in front of her locker, knees drawn to her chest, sobbing. He knelt next to her and revealed a small, pen shaped object that reflected the gleam of the lights around them. She looked up at the dazzling tip of a small, silver blade.
She suddenly felt the small ghost of a hunger she'd long forgotten. That little burst of perfect peace, and all it cost was one teeny cut. Her eyes darted up to meet David's. He leered at her, menacing in his enthusiasm. She felt her pulse quicken as she wrapped her fingers around his as he held the knife.
She guided them down to the inside of her arm, softly pressing the blade down to savor the sensation of cold metal. All the badness, the deterioration…none of it would hurt so badly after this…
Her hand jerked upward, and the knife grazed the smooth porcelain of Montague's face. The scarlet-tipped blade dropped, and Angelina scrambled up to get out from reaching distance of the Slytherin now gripping his cheek. "Hurts, doesn't it?"
Montague let out a long string of expletives that Angelina only laughed at. "How long did you think you could do this to me? You took me in my most vulnerable state, and you played with me. You turned me against the only people that care about me…made me want you…made me need you. But why?"
David lowered his hand and stood stoically before her. She'd never understand, even if he tried to explain. Things like this only happened in novels and muggle cinema. "It doesn't matter anymore, Montague. I see perfectly now. And you will not be the one to break me!"
She would end their entropic cycle now. She wouldn't let herself be rent by his mind games any longer. She took a deep breath and waited for the words that never came. He never moved, hardly blinked, never spoke. He just watched her, disguising his mixed feelings of pride and guilt. Just let her walk away while she can…
She wiped a mud-matted strand of hair from her forehead and left her locker room feeling more alive than she'd been in a long time. For once, she didn't need someone to turn to – someone to protect or comfort her. Reveling in her independence, she made her way back to the castle unaware and uncaring that a pair of irriguous, aphotic eyes
watched every step.