(please read the A/N at the bottom - thank you!)
His hair - his eyes, the way he'd stood, his delicate hands,- his voice-
Grantaire groaned, putting his head in his hands. Just the fact that they had to go and "meet" them was painful in itself, but Grantaire had just gotten used to the sensation of living without him. It may have been dull and painful, but there was his parents to think about; if they caught him even thinking about another guy in that way then it would probably have been the most painful experience of his life - way more painful than trying to forget about him.
Pain was not something Grantaire welcomed.
After the meeting, he had had to ditch Éponine outside the common room and go on a mad sprint around the castle, mainly just because he needed to work off the panic that was slowly seeping in through every pore in his body. Thankfully, there was no one about to laugh and heckle at him after hours.
Looking back, Grantaire was surprised that he never got caught, but, even if he had, the prefects probably wouldn't have said anything; he was in a rather extraordinary state.
Of course, Éponine had started apologising profusely as soon as Grantaire finally reappeared in the common room almost two hours later, having rubbed off the tear tracks and hallowed expression. She hadn't made the connection of "meeting" Gavroche's new friends and Grantaire's whole issue.
He couldn't help it; his obsession was taking over him.
Yet it wasn't quite like Éponine's infatuation with the Pontmercy - it was more than that. Éponine was always so gutsy and ready-for-anything, but she'd hadn't uttered a word to him since First Year that didn't contain an insult. She considered it her weakness, but to Grantaire it was so much more than that.
It was a huge part of him that wasn't filled - void and numb and limp. One of the reasons he kept up his incessant drinking was so that that piece of him finally burnt with the alcohol and hurt with the rest.
Suppressing it was a constant use of energy; always having to think of new topics for his brain to distract itself with, always looking for another bottle to drown himself in. He'd been doing so well - but how could he move on now?
It was an addiction, and he was losing himself to it.
Or maybe he already had?
Grantaire was so tired that he didn't even notice when a certain blonde slipped into the dormitory almost an hour after he himself returned. The blonde did not let his smile leave his face until he had silently changed into his night clothes and gotten into bed.
A dull thud echoed through the dormitory room at half past six that morning, just as Jehan was tugging the knots from his hair with an old blue hairbrush. Rolling his eyes at the lump on the floor, he eventually managed to get the final bugger out from the end of his hair and threw the hairbrush on the floor, relishing in the harsh crack it made.
Normally, he wouldn't dare do such a thing, but this morning was different. This morning, the sight of Courfeyrac on the floor in his underwear, having just fallen out of bed, didn't do anything except disgust him.
"For Merlin's sake, do you have no co-ordination?" Jehan snapped, causing Courfeyrac's head to snap up in shock, even though he was still half asleep. Aggression was not usually something that was even hinted at in Jehan's tone, so this was a surprise to say the least.
"Wh-what?" Courfeyrac stuttered, not questioning the query itself, but more the whole mood of the male in front of him. "Jehan, are you-"
"Don't bother." Jehan spat, causing hurt to flicker in Courfeyrac's eyes like a flame, "We all know you don't really care."
He cast a glance around the dorm at the other shocked Hufflepuffs.
"I'll see you downstairs."
Stunned silence followed Jehan out of the dormitory, but, for once in his life, he didn't care that he had just upset someone. This in itself was odd, because normally the only person he cared about was Courfeyrac, and yet he was the one Jehan was mad at.
Normally, the fact that he brought back girls wasn't much of an issue. Jehan just had to convince himself that he didn't really feel anything for them.
That bloody timetable.
It was the source of almost 40 percent of Jehan's problems because it was a constant, painful reminder that Courfeyrac didn't love him; at least not the way he should. As he sat down at the Hufflepuff table that morning, he couldn't help but loathe the small piece of paper he carried everywhere with him, burning his skin with it's presence.
Moodily buttering his toast, he tried to forget the night before: Courfeyrac had come in at two in the morning, humming through his nose and relaying the details of his night before he'd even gotten into bed. There were some things about Angelina Spinnet that Jehan would rather not have known.
After almost ten minutes of chewing his toast, the seat opposite Jehan was occupied by Marius, his look weary. He was alone.
"Morning," His tone was light, but he knew Jehan wasn't really in the mood for talking. Still, he tried. "Thank Merlin it's Friday, huh?"
Jehan made a non-committal noise, but he saw Marius making hand gestures to someone further down the table, which he tried to conceal but failed.
Of course, Jehan sighed, They're all further down the table, waiting for Marius' judgement. But it appeared to be negative, as they all stayed where they were.
"Hey, we have Charms today," Marius tried to pick up the conversation, "You like Charms!"
Jehan took a deep breath, trying not to snap, knowing that Marius would keep trying until he got a response, no matter how upset the person got. He might as well answer now rather than in ten minutes when he was fuming.
"Look Marius, I'm sorry-" He began, but he was cut off by another voice, spine-tinglingly familiar, coming from the other side of the Great Hall, getting closer.
"Oi, Prouvaire!"
It was Courfeyrac.
"What the fuck was that for?"
Wincing, Jehan twisted round in his seat to see Courfeyrac ten metres away, and advancing. A few Hufflepuff heads had turned to see what the commotion was about, but didn't look that stunned, as Courfeyrac often came into breakfast with a mouth on him. He had never been a morning person.
"Er- um, I-"
Mentally, he kicked himself. Could he not control himself for one minute? But Courfeyracs appearance was so carelessly handsome; tie askew, top button undone, shirt half tucked in, his hair shiny and yet scruffy, one hand in his pocket and the other holding-
The timetable.
That fucking timetable.
Anger uncurled inside of him, exploding from it's tiny seed into a living, seething shadow, twisting erratically through his limbs, aching to break free of it's paper thin bonds.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jehan started, sarcasm bleeding into his tone, "Did you miss the part where I'm pissed at you and we don't speak for the rest of the day?"
"No," Courfeyrac reached the bench, anger sketched onto his features, "I got that part, but I don't give a shit about your little tantrum rules."
"Really?" Jehan raised his eyebrows, "Looks like you care enough to make a scene out of it."
It was true. By now, the majority of the Hufflepuff table had turned to watch the spat, and half of the Gryffindor table had turned to look as well; even Enjolras' blonde curls were looking up from his black coffee to find the source of the disturbance.
"Don't worry," Courfeyrac replied, a smirk brushed onto his lips, "I think I can handle the drama."
Jehan tried not retort with a childish remark, but struggled, as - with everyone watching - he didn't want to back down.
"This is stupid," He managed, through gritted teeth, "And bloody childish. Just let me have my day; my one day to hate on the world."
"No," Courfeyrac spat, his fist clenched, effectively crushing the timetable, which he didn't appear to notice at the time, "You can't be angry. You're Jehan."
"What's that supposed to mean?" The blonde replied, his voice trembling slightly, although it was only really apparent to the student opposing him, "Are you saying I can't have bad days?"
"You're the happy one." He replied, simply, "You make us feel good when there's nothing left in the world to hope for, you're the one trying to cheer us up when we've had a bad day. There isn't a fierce bone in your body, that's just who you are."
The inky shadow inside Jehan straightened itself, preparing itself to unleash the fire that was burning within, but somehow the Hufflepuff managed to control it.
"You don't think I can be fierce?" His voice was low, but by now the entire Great Hall had stopped their bickering to listen, confused but riveted, to the argument between the two boys. "You don't think I can be passionate about the things - the people - I love?"
"N-now, I never said that-" Courfeyrac started, looking a little startled, stuttering for possibly the first time in his life, but Jehan cut him off almost instantly.
"You didn't say it, but that's what you thought." Sparks were flying in Jehan's stomach, and he was having a hard time keeping them inside; all he wanted to do was set them free, "Damn it Courfeyrac, I can be compassionate. I can be fierce. I can be whatever the hell I want - whoever the hell I want - and you can't tell me otherwise."
Finally, when he felt like he just couldn't stand the shocked silence any longer, Jehan stood from his seat, the entire Hogwarts population staring, and he stormed out of the Great Hall, stupidly forgetting his bag in the process.
Never before had he blown up at Courfeyrac like that - never. To think, Jehan shuddered to himself, that the first time it happened had to be in front of all those people... Next time, I'll wait until we get back to the Dorm for all that.
Settling into the corner of an empty Charms classroom, his first lesson, that didn't commence for at least another half an hour, Jehan drew his knees up to his chest and tried to stay calm.
He'd just upset Courfeyrac.
Whilst he tried to console himself, saying that Courfeyrac was being a dick and he deserved to be yelled at, he knew deep down that he'd failed himself. Courfeyrac was right - he was always the peacemaker, the happy one. How could he believe that his bad day had a right to ruin everyone else's?
"Sucks, huh?"
Startled out of his self pitying state, Jehan spun around to see Combeferre in the doorway, holding the blonde's bag in his outstretched hand.
"What sucks?" Jehan replied, almost positive that Combeferre was referring to arguing with his friend, but still the tiniest bit unsure. That tiny piece of grit was lodging itself in his heart and grinding against his nerves.
"Wanting someone you can't have."
All life stood still, time slowed down, Jehan was able to count the milliseconds that passed.
How did he know?
The words hung heavily in the silence, Combeferre's piercing look daring Jehan to deny it. Jehan felt them echoing in his ears, twisting into words they weren't, twisting into the things he didn't want to hear.
"I don't know what you're-"
"Don't." Combeferre's voice wasn't unkind, but it was firm. "You know exactly what I mean - you like Courfeyrac."
Opening his mouth to argue, Jehan tried to come up with a suitable, believable argument, but found none. Instead, he sighed, and reached out his hand for his bag, effectively inviting Combeferre to come and sit next to him.
The floor was cold and dusty, in desperate need for a clean although it was only a few days after it had been thoroughly swept. This was the thing Jehan held onto as Combeferre sat down next to him, bringing thoughts of Courfeyrac and pain in a sweep of cool air.
"How did you know?" Jehan asked, his voice tired, reigned in by the argument he'd just had. "Am I obvious?"
"No," Combeferre started, slightly hesitant, "It's not obvious. I'm just... Observant."
Slowly, Jehan slid down the wall until his back was slumped in an 'S' shape, probably causing havoc for the bones. Not that he particularly cared at that moment in time.
"What do I do?" Jehan whispered, more as a question to himself than to Combeferre, "If he realises that-"
"He won't." Combeferre assured him, quickly, "It's Courfeyrac. You have nothing to worry about."
Just then, the bell for the start of the first lesson went, signalling that the two should probably stand. However, before they had a chance, the door to the Charms classroom banged open, and the man of the hour walked in.
Courfeyrac.
For a few seconds, he didn't notice the pair sat in the ground, merely throwing his bag on his desk near the front, sighing deeply. Then, when he finally picked up on the movement out of the corner if his eye, he froze.
Turning to look at them, Combeferre recognised instantly what was flaming in his eyes; jealousy.
Heavy air hung around them, wrestling the life from their lungs.
Yelps and happy shrieks suddenly filled their ears as the rest of the class wandered in, barely noticing the tension between the original teens. This sudden burst of colour and noise meant that the eye contact was broken, luckily for Combeferre.
"I'll see you later, okay?" The Ravenclaw muttered to his friend, finally standing, noting how the brunette was watching them out of the corner of his eye, "Don't let him get to you."
"Thanks," Jehan murmured back, although he was barely listening; he was too busy trying to avoid looking at Courfeyrac, "I- I'll try."
okily dokily so normally I hate authors notes but I felt this one was necessary (I can't even see straight oh god) and I'm sorry for the boredom but please do read it
both katy and i (oh yeah it's Emily typing btw) are going on a (small) weeks trip abroad to Amsterdam and Berlin, but we'll be back next Tuesday (23rd July), so there won't be any updates until then. hope you all liked the chapter and we'll see you on Tuesday! :)