And
He'll Not Call Her Hero
dis.claimed.
Lily Evans' best friend is a not-so-straight boy who used to cling to her sleeve and constantly draws tiny ramblings on his left arm. He is also one year younger and lusts after people-she-doesn't-know-about-yet. Or else she'd beat him up. Really.
She slams her books about and rants and doesn't finish her homework that is already late so honestly. He rubs his arm, smudges it (artfully, of course) and sticks his tongue in her ear to get her to change the subject.
When she cries on his robes about what else? He tells her that she is a Mudblood so why does she worry over something that's just a bunch of sounds strung together? It's not discoloring her skin or splitting it open or killing her so what's wrong? What's the matter? And can you please stop blotching up my essay?
She doesn't speak to him until she does the next day and he kisses a Ravenclaw prefect in a closet that same evening. Lily worries her lip between her teeth and asks him if he'd ever die for her.
He doesn't answer and Potter steals a book from her bag that turns her attention away from this.
There are so many wrongs that it feels right. When Lily graduates and forgets about him and runs off to hide with James Potter he thinks that now he can reply to her question.
There are only so many ways something can add up and when she dies he is glad that it was not him instead. He sits by her grave and refuses to say goodbye. He calls her Mudblood and is not surprised when other visitors take offense. She's still echoing in his head and there is no ear for him to turn to or put his tongue in and there is no ink available in any glass for him to draw from.
He wishes that it was him instead and finally realizes the full potential of words just strung together. He sits by her grave and does not cry and wonders why he ever let Potter steal her away.