A/N: Chapter Fifty-Five! One more after this. I know I've made some, let's say, interesting choices as far as the characters are concerned (like a disease, for one lol) so thank you for sticking around. I hope no one feels unappreciated or neglected by me. I try very, very hard to post these chapters as fast as I can, because I know how frustrating it can be to invest time into a story the author has neglected to update. That said, I don't want this note to stretch on too long, so, again, thank you so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter, as well as the next.

Some Time Later

Through various modes of transportation and just under three months of travel, I'd hopped from London to Southern California, to Chicago, to New Orleans, to Rio, to Cape Town, to Cairo, to Dubai, to Goa, to Tokyo, to Seoul, to Phuket, and finally, to Hong Kong. There were more places and more continents left to cover, but I decided Hong Kong was a good place to rest for an extra week. It was busy and bustling, and the architecture was perhaps the most beautiful I had ever seen for any magical government building. Though, as much as I wished to stay there for the duration of the month — I couldn't. Ron and Daphne's wedding was fast approaching, and I happened to be a bridesmaid.

That in mind, I slipped out of my room at the Island Shangri-La and entered the lobby. It was the nicest, most ornately decorated hotel I'd ever visited, and I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that I had a room there. Between the high ceilings, the mammoth chandeliers, the gilded furniture and the air of luxury that seemed to bleed from the walls — there wasn't much room for doubt. I postponed my Port Key to Geneva for a later time and spent an extra seven days in Hong Kong, mesmerized by the city, as well as the culture and the overall vibe. It was bustling, without being a headache, and I quite liked the fact that not many people, even within the magical community, seemed to recognize me.

Most days, I woke up around noon, drew myself a bath, soaked for about twenty minutes, before ordering room service and then proceeding outside to take in the sites and attractions. Trust me, there were many. I especially liked the food — because that was the best part about this whole world tour thing. Forget Eat, Pray, Love. I wanted to Eat, Eat, Eat — and I did, as well as drink, but only small amounts. I couldn't risk doing anything crazy in a foreign country, where I knew no one apart from the bubbly socialite Mei. She was staying in the room down the corridor from mine, and happened to be my unofficial tour guide. I went out with her and her friends my first few nights in Hong Kong, and let me tell you — those ladies partied hard. Like, to the point that I had to sit back and ask myself if I had turned into a boring adult, so soon in life. I wasn't terribly young, but I certainly wasn't old.

Right?

Maybe not.

Needless to say, that first night was an experience and a half, and although I promised Mei I'd go out with her and her friends again before heading back to London, I found myself leaning more towards the idea of retreating to the city streets for a nice stroll — without loud music and bright, flashing lights.

So, on that last evening, I did exactly that.

I made my way to the Temple Street Night Market and had a gander through various souvenirs, as well as some odds and ends that baby James (and soon-to-be baby Albus) would enjoy. Plus — the food. Merlin, that food was delicious. I scarfed down two servings of clay pot rice, filled to the brim and ready for more, when suddenly I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder.

Most times, it was another English-speaking tourist seeking directions, and although I didn't speak a word of Cantonese, I did manage to get by. Mei helped a lot, having jotted down some quick, necessary phrases in phonetics, in case of an emergency. But the moment I turned, I found neither Mei nor a tourist. Though, I did find a familiar face nonetheless.

"Shen!" I half-gasped, half-choked, startling some passersby, as I launched at him with open arms. "What are you doing here?"

The young man, dressed in his usual band t-shirt and fitted jeans combo, chuckled at me in response. "I'm the Chinese one. What are you doing here?"

I chuckled with him, nodding, slightly dazed. From there, we fell into step with one another and made our way through the night market, and into one of the trendy bars in Lan Kwai Fong. It appeared he was there for an interview at the wizarding hospital in Hong Kong, which surprised me given the vehement stance he had taken not too long ago, about staying in London and working under Daphne's expertise. Though, I supposed he was simply exploring his options; something I wished I had done at his age. Nonetheless, it was refreshing to see him again. The last time I'd seen him was on Ron's birthday over one year ago — at Three Broomsticks.

Flashbacks of that night skidded through my memory.

"So what brings you to Hong Kong?" he furthered, having ordered us some drinks. "Auror business?"

I smiled, wheeling a look around the bar. It was quite large and dimmed, with sleek decor and touches of deep blue and indigo here and there. I imagined it looked something like the Ravenclaw Common Room in Hogwarts. "For once, no. Just some traveling before Ron and Daphne's wedding."

Shen nodded slowly. "Right. I've been meaning to tell Daph I won't be able to make it."

His admission broke my wandering look. I turned to him, perplexed. "Oh, no…Did something come up at school?"

"Nah, jut some personal matters," he whatever'd, shrugging it off with a quick smile. " — but enough about that."

I opened my mouth to say something, perhaps pry a little until I landed on something substantial, but the moment I parted my lips was the moment our server returned with a martini for me and a vodka neat for Shen. For a moment, I simply watched, having to remind myself that he was of legal drinking age in both Hong Kong and England. Still, when I looked at him, I wanted to see the same boy I had met in Nott's potions class, eager to learn and kind to his classmates. Clearly, he had grown up within the past couple years, enough that his entire demeanour had changed. That in mind, I couldn't help but notice a hint of a tattoo below the sleeve of his thin, black coat.

Done with his drink, he wiped his lips and noticed me staring. "Want to see it?"

I paused. "Erm — if — if you want —"

Without further questioning, Shen slipped out of his coat and thus, revealed his tattoo. It wasn't a single tattoo. It was an entire sleeve, containing many, intricately designed illustrations and symbols. "I had it done a couple months ago," he explained. "Bit random, but I quite like it."

"Did it hurt?" I asked, bouncing my eyes up, at him.

Again, he shrugged. "No more than usual."

My eyes widened a little. "You have more?"

"Three more," he answered, casual, as though answering questions about his tattoos had become routine. "Between the shoulder blades, across the lower abdomen and over the heart."

I blinked. "Well, then."

Shen chuckled in response to my astonishment. "Tattoos are the best therapy. Trust me."

"Really?"

"Definitely," he nodded. "You should get one."

I laughed, instinctively shaking my head, acutely aware of the implication behind his suggestion. It didn't take a genius to surmise the fact that something tragic and life changing had happened within our group of friends — and although I had been attending regular sessions of actual therapy before leaving, something about Shen's suggestion resonated with me. I thought, perhaps some ink wouldn't be such a terrible idea. I wasn't against tattoos or any other form of body art/self-expression. Part of me had always wanted to get one, but I could never think of something that I wanted etched into my skin for all eternity.

That was before.

Things had changed.

I was older. I had been through a ton. I had every reason in the world to…

"You're thinking about it," Shen deduced, on his second drink, thumb on his chin as he studied me. "How about tonight? One of my mates works in a tattoo shop not too far from here. I'm sure he can squeeze you in."

"Er…"

This wasn't actually happening. I wasn't actually going to get a tattoo, at the suggestion of Cho Chang's nephew.

Shen flashed me a knowing look, quite perceptive for someone nine years younger than me. "No pressure. Just know the offer's on the table," he winked. "If you're feeling adventurous enough, let me know."

I responded to this with a firm arch in my brow. "We're still talking about tattoos…right…?"

To this, he laughed, but he sounded more nervous than amused. His cheeks turned a violent shade of red, and he then downed the rest of his drink. "Third round?"

"Sure," I chuckled.

Four Hours Later

It was around midnight when we finally left the bar. I cut myself off around the second or third hour and used the fourth to sober up, before seeing Shen home. Yes, he was technically the man in the situation, but he was also a lot younger than me and had a lot to drink, which shifted the responsibility for making sure he got home in one piece onto me. I didn't mind. I'd rather have done it myself than shove him into a cab and send him Merlin knows where. Plus, he was Nott's favourite student. I felt compelled to look after him.

That in mind, I escorted him to his hotel room, having to fish the key card from his pocket, before sliding it in the electronic lock and stumbling with him through the doorway.

"Since…since I know I've…made an arse…of myself…" he managed to say, hiccoughing here and there, as I slung an arm under his shoulders and dragged him to the bed, before unlacing his boots. "Do you…do you think you could…tell me something…?"

I yanked his boots off, one after the other, and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, before rising from the floor and looking at him. "Maybe in the morning. For now, you should rest."

His head drooped down, as he sat on the foot of the bed. "I'm an arse."

"You're not an arse," I countered, tilting my head to the side, looking at him knowingly. "You've had too much to drink. There's nothing wrong with that. We've all been there. I know I have."

"It's not that," he furthered, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes.

Something sank deep into my chest. "Shen…" I murmured, concerned, moving to the bed and having a seat beside him. "What's wrong?"

He turned his face in the opposite direction, hiding from me. "Nothing just…just too much to drink. Like you said."

"You can talk to me," I assured him. "I know we…aren't exactly best friends or anything but if there's one thing I can guarantee, it's that I'm a good listener."

Despite this, he held his position and cursed at himself for this rare, unexpected moment of humanity. To my knowledge, he was always on his a-game and rarely, if ever, showed weakness or vulnerability. But I didn't let those preconceptions cloud my judgment. He was still a young man, with stresses and concerns and an entire future weighing on his shoulders. I remembered that feeling well. It was the only part about being in my early 20's that seemed to scar.

Finally, after three or four minutes, the silence was broken.

"I…I didn't say goodbye…" he voiced, head still turned. "…nor did I attend the funeral…"

Somewhere deep down, I knew this to have been the source to his affliction. I'd been meaning to ask, but decided not to, as I didn't want to spoil his mood or put a damper on the night. Though…now that I could see he was deeply affected by what he had (better yet, had not) done, I wished I'd mentioned it earlier.

"It's never too late," I said to him, softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Trust me on that."

Shen looked to the floor. "I know you're right…but…I can't do it. I can't do it alone…"

"If you need someone there, I'd be more than willing to go with you."

"Really?" he asked, facing me.

I noticed then, the shine in his eyes. "Absolutely."

From there, he took a deep breath, weighing his options.

It was telling, the amount of people affected by what happened and in so many different ways. For the most part, I had dealt with the loss better than I expected. Part of me knew this was his plan, that he not only left in order to let me live my life, but also to get me used to the feeling of living without him. It was obviously difficult, and I still thought about him everyday — when the wind whistled around me; when certain songs came on the radio; when men on the street walked past me in leather jackets; or when I caught the scent of fresh, mountain air. I missed him, terribly, and although I knew I had to move on in order to live a full, happy life, I couldn't do it by running away.

The reason — the main reason — I left wasn't because I needed an escape. It had more to do with the fact that I needed time and a change in setting, in order to find my thoughts and put them to bed.

Because that's what this entire memoir is about.

I needed closure. Not only from him, but from everything. I spent too many years chasing after the wrong dreams at the wrong times. I owed it to myself to make things right for my future, and in order to do that, I had to sort out my past.

So…that first night away from home…in Southern California…I sat on the rooftop of a beach house in Malibu and I penned the first chapter. Starting with the anecdote about Jillian, my cousin, and ending with my first kiss, given to me by none other than Viktor Krum. Three months later, about fifty chapters in, and over one hundred thousand words to describe what led me to this moment, and I felt content. I knew, right then, that writing things down instead of pretending they didn't matter, was the right decision.

Immersed in these thoughts, I didn't notice when Shen leaned back on his bed and fell asleep. Though, the moment I did, I smiled and draped one of the bed sheets over him, before dimming the lights and leaving, thinking distantly about the name of the tattoo shop he had mentioned…

A/N: Thoughts?

Cheers

xo.