Impossible Love

Chapter 18 – Presenting the Truth

Staring out at her classmates and the reassuring smile of Professor Weasley, Lara felt a calm descend. She'd been nervous walking up to the front of the room – in the same way she'd been nervous ahead of the dance at the Halloween Ball – but now she was happy to get it over with. It was the whole point of going first … setting the standard and then being able to relax. Besides, Lara knew she had put in the work; she knew her topic inside out.

'The First Wizarding War: A New Age of Destruction' was the title of her presentation. The research angle had led her to consider how Voldemort thoroughly broke the mould when it came to Dark Wizards. His strategies, his targets, his supporters, his chosen methods of death. They were all so varied – learning from the past and improving. Some attacks (especially the early ones) had echoes of Grindelwald, whilst others were so horrifically brutal, they seemed like nothing before in history. Voldemort's targets were the Order but also any Muggle he happened to come across. His twisted branch of evil tainted Britain for over a decade.

Lara spoke with eloquence on the topic. Her presentation concluded with a devastating quotation she had unearthed whilst researching The Daily Prophet's coverage of the conflict.

"We must fight. We must use whatever means we have. There are no sidelines to sit on in this war. Every moment of silence and inaction rings the death knell for another Muggle or wizard. One day it will be yours that rings and there will be no one left to fight for you."

Lara paused letting the words sink in before stating, "A week after his speech was reported in The Prophet, Gideon Prewett had been murdered by Death Eaters. The war was so far-reaching, and the death knell rang for so many, that it crushed hope and resistance, leaving chaos and fear that would take years to dispel."

The class were silent. Lara stood awkwardly, lowering her notes to her side. She knew that Prewett was Professor Weasley's uncle and she hoped he didn't mind her using his words.

She didn't have to worry for long though as Professor Weasley rose to his feet and clapped.

"Thank you, Lara. An excellent presentation to start us off. Does anyone have any questions?"

As no one did, Lara was permitted to return to her seat, catching sight of Hestia mouthing 'well done' across the classroom.

The next few presentations focused on older conflicts and Lara listened with interest. She was less familiar with these whereas to pure-bloods they were almost fables.

Jamie was the first up to present on the most recent wizarding conflict. He'd chosen to focus on 'The Hidden Death Toll: Muggles and the Second Wizarding War'.

Lara found it difficult to listen to. At the time of the attacks, she was a Muggle as far as she knew and was in primary school. Some of the cases Jamie explained, she knew were by Death Eaters – they were high-profile enough to have been attributed to particular followers of Voldemort in the subsequent trials. Others surprised her. She remembered hearing about the two little girls who had disappeared from their street, leaving abandoned bikes on the pavement. She didn't recall ever hearing the outcome, so to find out their disappearance was attributed to Fenrir Greyback made her feel physically sick. They had been a similar age to Lara at the time they were snatched – the terror must have been unimaginable.

Jamie had been magically projecting images of scenes and victims throughout his presentation.

"This next case didn't make the news much in the Wizarding World," he flashed up the ruins of a factory on an industrial estate – warped iron debris scattered the ground and a crater could be seen in the centre of the devastation. "Muggles reported a gas explosion and teenage vandals. It didn't even come to the Ministry's attention until the commission report looked into unusual Muggle deaths during the war years."

Lara tilted her head and frowned as she looked at the scene.

"The explosion, which claimed the lives of two Muggle policemen, was actually a highly advanced piece of dark magic believed to have been perpetrated by Roldolphus Lestrange as a 'celebration' of one year since Voldemort returned to corporeal form."

Of all Hogwarts' students, Hufflepuffs knew all too well the cost of Voldemort's bodily return. Each year, they would mark Cedric's birthday with a minute's silence led by the Fat Friar in the Common Room. His life cut tragically short on the day the Second Wizarding War began. Lara thought of this memory, but her mind was torn by the next image Jamie displayed: police ID photographs of the two officers killed replaced the mangled wreck of the factory.

Lara took a sharp intake of breath as she struggled to comprehend what she was seeing. Everything seemed to go silent – even though she knew that Jamie was still speaking. She'd seen the two photographs countless times on the news, in the local papers and in her mother's folder of mementos and articles she had gathered and then shut away in a cupboard. Despite not including their names on the images, Lara didn't need Jamie to say them. PC David Catterall and PC Aaron Hepworth – her father.

Feeling as if her mind was screaming, Lara struggled to tune back into Jamie's presentation. He was reading parts of a transcript from Lestrange's statement to Aurors who had questioned him about his involvement.

"Lestrange had already been locked away for a couple of years following the Battle of Hogwarts and he was reported to have laughed when first questioned," said Jamie. "Calling the officers 'clueless with their silly batons' and claimed he almost regretted killing them as it was so 'pathetically easy – it was hardly a fitting tribute to the Dark Lord.'"

Lara's mind and emotions shut down. She had to get out of the classroom, get away from the happy image of her innocent father and stop hearing Jamie saying 'pathetically easy' over and over in her head. Abruptly pushing her chair back, Lara stood and walked quickly out of the room; her gaze fixed on the door at the back.

Once on the corridor, Lara's fast walk became a jog and then a sprint. Her feet whirred down staircase after staircase, moving so quickly she was surprised the momentum didn't cause her to tumble. Lungs burning and tears streaming down her face, Lara continued running and running. Mindlessly, she was carried outside, across the grounds and down towards the furthest greenhouse. She wasn't thinking about where she was going; she wasn't thinking at all. Lara was a breath away from releasing the scream echoing round her head and was blind to everything else.

She didn't notice the second years packing away their equipment in the first greenhouse ready for lunchtime. She didn't notice Neville looking up at precisely the moment she streaked past. Lara only noticed struggling to breathe as she felt her entire existence coming apart at the seams. Racking sobs shook her frame and her vision was obscured by tears as she felt piercing shards of darkness through her body. Coming apart at the seams was too gentle a metaphor for this pain. A torrent of grief and anger swept over her. If Sunday morning and her dad's birthday had been bad – a plug removed on her grief – this felt as if the Earth's core had shifted and seemed to simultaneously drain and ignite her ocean of loss.

Finally, Lara stopped running and collapsed to her knees, bowing her head as her tears kept flowing.

It was in this position that a worried Neville found Lara minutes later, having quickly dismissed his class with an inkling as to where she'd gone.

"Lara?" he asked softly.

When her only reply was an anguished moan, Neville shut the door of the greenhouse and knelt beside her, not caring about the dirt that was scattered across the floor. He hesitated for a second before pulling her into a tight hug. The soft knit of his maroon jumper absorbed her tears as she buried her face into his chest.

Taking deep, steadying breaths, Lara tried to focus on Neville's hands: his right was smoothing her hair and holding her close whilst the left had settled on her hip and traced small circles across the pleats at the top of her skirt. Instinctively, Neville knew how to calm Lara and stop her bolting.

Without the demands of an explanation, Lara's body gradually relaxed into his, releasing some of the anger and tension. She felt her breathing return to normal and thought of how to begin.

"Do you remember what I told you about my dad?" said Lara quietly into his jumper.

"Yes," he said, pulling her fractionally closer.

"It wasn't a gas explosion," she began. "I've just found out – courtesy of Jamie's Defence Against the Dark Arts presentation – that he was killed by Rodolphus Lestrange in some kind of Dark Magic firework display."

The last words were spat out with bitter disgust and Lara pulled away from Neville.

"How could the Ministry not tell us? I've gone 10 years of my life thinking it was a freak accident. 10 years of lies. How can I face my mum knowing this? Knowing that magic had taken him away from her long before my Hogwarts' letter did the same."

Grasping her hand, Neville said, "I'm so sorry that happened and you found out like that. But you know the truth now … that's a powerful thing. Your mum will want to know, and she'll want to be there for you."

I want to kill the bastard, Lara thought.

Neville waited patiently for her to respond.

"Apparently he was already in Azkaban when they questioned him. He admitted it, so they didn't bother with a trial. And he's already away for life. How's that justice for my dad?"

Lara pulled her hands away from Neville's grip and clenched her fists in frustration at how powerless she was to do anything and how powerless she was to stop the tears falling again.

Voice rising in anger, Lara felt as if she was vibrating with rage. "I want to hurt him in the same way he's hurt my family. He doesn't deserve to live."

Bringing his hands to her face, Neville cupped her cheeks and swiped the falling tears, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't let the need for revenge take over … trust me on that," he said, his eyes burning with unspoken pain. "You have to let go of it and live."

Looking into Neville's eyes, Lara let his words soothe her. She didn't have the monopoly on suffering; Neville knew all too well the pain that the Lestranges could cause.

He held her face inches from his own and, as her anger subsided once more, Lara's body subtly responded to their closeness. Her breath hitched as one of Neville's hands moved to the back of her neck, and her eyes flitted to his lips with a flash of desire.

The only thought left in Lara's mind was Neville's last word: 'live'. With cheeks still damp from tears, Lara surged forwards and brought her lips crashing down onto his. Her hands clung to his biceps, steadying herself on his solid frame. Neville's lips opened slightly and Lara took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. Her tongue traced a path across his lower lip as she pushed her body forward and reached up, threading her fingers through Neville's hair.

One arm snaked around her waist, holding her tightly. Hard planes of unyielding muscle pushed against Lara's soft curves – her pliant body begging for his touch. Neville's teeth grazed over her lips and swallowed her moan of pleasure. His fingers dug into her hips as if he was trying to pull her body into his.

They both released the passion and frustration that had been building since their first meeting. It was all poured into a breathless, panting first kiss.

Tugging insistently at his jumper, Lara tried to gain access to his bare skin. She needed to feel the warmth of his body to almost reassure herself of the reality of the moment. Her hands burned with need to touch him and run her fingers down his chest, following the trail of dark hair.

It took a moment for Lara to realise that Neville was no longer returning the kiss – her actions had shattered the spell that had briefly enchanted them. Pulling his lips away, Neville leaned his forehead against hers – his breath coming in shuddering gasps as he regained control.

"Lara, we can't…"

Closing her eyes so he wouldn't see her sadness, she inhaled the rich, earthy smell of Neville for what she suspected would be the last time. She couldn't bring herself to regret instigating the kiss. Despite the circumstances, her tears, her anger, and now her embarrassment, kissing Neville was one thing that had felt right. It was as if her world had repaired itself in that moment – they understood each other in a way that she'd not experienced before. Encased in his arms was exactly where she'd needed to be, but she couldn't say that. Not when he'd pulled away.

Pulling herself up, Lara took a step towards the door.

"Wait…" Neville grabbed her arm and held her back.

"I shouldn't have done that," whispered Lara with her back to Neville. "Please just forget it and let me go."

As if her words were flames, Neville dropped her arm, allowing her to hurry out of the greenhouse.

Walking through the castle to her room, Lara's feelings had calmed to such an extent that she hardly knew who the girl was in the greenhouse. Looking back on what had transpired minutes before, it felt like it had happened to someone else, not her. She avoided drama usually, and now she'd been hit with a truckload and didn't know what to do with it.

Pushing the door to their Common Room open, Lara was greeted by a pacing Jamie wearing a path out across the rug with his head in his hands.

"Thank Merlin you're back," he said. "I am so sorry. I didn't realise he was your dad – never mind that you didn't know."

Jamie stepped towards her but halted at the sight of her outstretched palm.

"Please," she said with a sigh. "It's done now. I'm ok … I just need a bit of time."

Lara managed to give Jamie a half smile / half grimace and walked towards her stairs.

Turning back, she asked, "Oh … could you explain to McGonagall why I won't make Transfiguration this afternoon?"

"Of course. You can borrow my notes," he offered with a smile.

"Thanks."

Lara could tell that Jamie had been genuinely concerned, and she was relieved that she could count on him when it came to the serious stuff. Living with him would have been difficult if they were wholly at odds with each other.

What she didn't realise, as Jamie watched her climb the steps to her bedroom, was that her tights had a thin layer of greenhouse dirt pressed into the knees and that Jamie had noticed.

Author's note:

Thanks for sticking with Lara so far - that was a long time coming! As ever, reviews and lovely comments are so appreciated.

Viola Pearl