"And no-one's ever burned you

Nothing's ever left you scarred

And even though you want to

Please try to never grow up."

- Never Grow Up by Taylor Swift

"Rose."

"Stay the fuck away from me."

"Rose, come on, open up."

Lily slumped against the cubicle door, her head tilted to stare at the tiles on the ceiling. She could hear the noise from breakfast in the Great Hall and closed her eyes.

"Rose, please."

There was no movement from inside the cubicle.

"She looks terrible." Moaning Myrtle had risen from above the cubicle door to float by Lily. "You must have done something truly awful." Lily shook her head and knocked on the door again, but her only reply was more sobbing.

"Rose, I was tripping. I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't even remember doing it." More sobbing and sniffling. Lily knocked again. "Please."

But twenty minutes later, when most of the school was shuffling out to enjoy their weekend in the sun, Rose was still not out. Lily slid down the door until she was sitting on the ground, her knees tucked into her chest.

"At least come out to eat something," she suggested.

"Go away."

"No. Talk to me."

"I don't want to fucking talk to you, can't you see that? I want to kill you. I hate you. I want you to fuck off. I'm so sick of you. I'm sick of you getting everything. I'm sick of you being so fucking perfect. You had everything. I had Scorpius. He was mine, not yours, the one thing I had. And you fucking took him. Because you could."

It was the most Rose had said all day, and Lily found herself speechless. Rose finished with a cry. With nothing to say, Lily silently pulled herself to her feet and walked away.

Oliver Wood had only one motto: Quidditch or die.

It had been drilled into every one of his children's heads. Which was why Nicholas was pinning up the notice for Quidditch trials next weekend already.

"That's so soon!" Norman Boot complained as he read the notice over Nicholas' shoulder.

"You'll survive. It's a big team this year, so we have to train early if we want to give up the pitch by eleven. The Gryffindors have it booked."

"Everybody's trialing on Saturday, then?" A fourth year asked.

"Yep."

He was about to turn around when Alexis was right in front of him. "Does it help at all if you know the captain?" she asked flirtily as she reached up to kiss him.

"I'm not biased," he said. "Sorry."

"Damn. I guess I'll have to get in the old fashion way."

"Guess you will."

With no further interest in the conversation, Alexis headed off, and Nicholas headed out into the courtyard to find the twins.

They were talking with Norman Boot when he found them, and by the looks of Lysander's arm movements, discussing the skill involved for Chasers. He tapped them and they quickly ended the conversation.

"I can't afford to be biased," he said to them, "but I can't afford to have Alexis on the team. I think I'll end up killing myself. Or her."

"She's not that bad," Lorcan said. "I'll take her, if you don't want her."

"I'd love you to take her. Thing is, I don't think she'll be that happy with that plan."

"Mm. There's your dilemma."

"I could confund her," suggested Lysander.

"That's cheating."

"Doesn't count if they're Alexis."

The three of them laughed.

"I'm going down to the pitch," Nicholas said suddenly. "To scope out the scene, you know." Nicholas had no desire to scope out the scene. What he wanted was to be alone, and that seemed like the best place to achieve this. He left the boys thinking up plans to smuggle some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes into Alexis' pumpkin juice.

The pitch, in contrast, was calm and quiet. Some giggling first years past by Nicholas quite loudly, but he took no notice as he strode onto the pitch and stared around the stands. He thought of how, for the first time in years, Ravenclaw had one the Quidditch cup two years ago. Nobody believed anybody but Gryffindor had a chance, since they had Albus Potter who really had inherited his father's famous talent. Nicholas had blocked sixteen well thrown goals in the finals, and they had one by a margin of over a hundred.

And then he imagined a different scene, one where he was dismounting his broom to the cries of thousands, and everybody was grabbing him, and he was hugging teammates and the screams were deafening because he'd won the world cup.

"And the crowd goes wild!" Nicholas cried aloud as he stared into the imaginary crowd, lifting his arms as if to encompass them. He stared around as the silence followed his exclamation.

At least, he assumed it would be silence. But someone was laughing. Really laughing, not in his imagination. He spun around to see who had interrupted his moment of solitude and hoped it wasn't Alexis. But it wasn't – it was Lily Potter.

"Hi," he said sheepishly, shoving his hands into his pockets. She was leaning against the side of the stands, her hair in a loose ponytail. Wisps fell around her face and as she smiled, her freckles crinkled on her nose.

"Hi," she said quietly. She pulled herself off the stands and started to walk towards him. "They said you'd be here."

"They?"

"Ly-'n'-Lo," she said. He frowned and she sat down in front of him. He followed her lead. "Lysander and Lorcan. When we were little, we couldn't pronounce Lysander and Lorcan, so we called them Ly and Lo, and then when we talked about the Scamanders, they were 'Ly-'n'-Lo.'" She lay down on her back and stared up at the sky.

"Makes sense," he said, lying back too, until they were next to each other. "You were looking for me?" But she said nothing. With her eyes closed, and her breathing slow, he could have sworn she was asleep. There was a pregnant pause, and he was scared to break it. "Is everything OK?"

She said nothing for a few more moments. He hesitated. "Nicholas," she said. "That's a nice name. Nicholas. Never Nick?"

"No. My brother's Alex, my sister's Cee, but I'm just Nicholas. Nick sounds wrong for me."

"You never took me for a Nick," she said. As she spoke, her voice sounded rather strained, like she was holding back tears. Nicholas hoped she would say more, but she didn't. So he repeated his earlier question. Not suprisingly, she didn't answer. "You don't talk much," he finally said.

And she didn't say anything.

For a very long time. And then –

"It was nice talking to you, Nicholas." Lily was on her feet, smiling down at him. He jumped to his feet too and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," he said. "You too."

She looked ready to leave, but before she turned, she reached up and placed the gentlest kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad I met you, Nicholas."

Stunned, the boy said nothing. And then he watched Lily walk away and out of sight and wondered what the fuck just happened.

Ginny quietly opened the door to her room and looked down the hallway. It was clear. With her bag in her hand, she slipped out into the hall stealthily and crept on tiptoes to the stairs. The note, like every other time, lay folded on her bed. A thank you, an apology, and this time, some money. There was a nagging feeling in her stomach, but she pushed it down as she stepped onto the first stair.

It creaked loudly. She stopped.

Next stair. Another creak. A pause.

Third stair. Another creak. And –

"You're going?"

Hannah.

Ginny spun around like a deer caught in headlights to face the other woman at the top of the stairs. She had her hands on her hips and looked somewhere between disappointed and livid.

"Hannah, h-hi, I…"

"You're going." A statement this time, not a question.

"Yes," Ginny said sheepishly.

"I should have expected it." She slumped over the railing. "Where do you plan on going? I was growing far too used to your presence."

"I don't know yet," Ginny lied. For a moment, she thought Hannah knew she was lying, but the look disappeared as soon as it came. She sighed.

"Oh." She hesitated. Nobody spoke. "Well, take care."

"Thanks, Hannah."

"I'll check you out. You've paid?" Ginny nodded. There was a silence. And then suddenly Hannah pulled Ginny into a tight embrace. "Take good care, dear," she whispered into the younger woman's ear.

"I will. Thank you for everything, Hannah. I'm sorry." When she pulled away, Hannah had tears in her eyes. "Tell Neville the same."

"I'll miss you, Ginny." She led Ginny downstairs and out the back, tapping on the bricks that gained her entry into Diagon Alley. "Stay safe." With another heartfelt hug, Ginny faced the dark street and the wall behind her closed up with a finalising thud.

So she started to walk.

When you hit a certain age, rebellion becomes less of a statement of maturity and more of the opposite. This could have been why she did it. Or maybe it was boredom. A thirst to prove herself. She didn't know why. She just did what she did with no explanation. She was not being watched by Hannah, not being mothered or cared for by anobody. She was fine. So she glanced around her and then made her decision. She went down the dark alley.

Knockturn Alley was a dodgy place during the day. At night, it was a suicide mission. All the time, it was a hellhole. But the thoughts and fears that she suppressed did not bother her as she stepped through the dodgy cobblestone street. She could hear raucous laughter from a shop up ahead and made her way towards it, hoping that it would not lead her to her death.

She heard stumbling beind her, and gripped her wand tighter. She kept walking, regretting her decision more with every step. More steps, more stumbling, and then –

"Hello, beautiful," someone cooed drunkenly from behind her. She stifferend and spun around.

He was drunk, but not alone. Beside him, looking almost manic, was another man, with black hair and crazy eyes illuminated in the streetlamp. The first man looked more or less the same, with tame blonde hair.

"Whatchu doing in this part of town?" he asked, taking a step towards her. She didn't back down. "Doesn't seem like your... scene."

"It isn't," she said stiffly. "So if I could just get past –"

"Hear that, Joe? She wants to get past," he sneered, displaying a full set of yellow teeth. Joe laughed appropriately, sending a wave of nausea and fear over Ginny. Joe laughed.

"So," the first man said with another step. He was close enough now for Ginny to smell his drunken breath. She held hers. And then –

She bolted. Sprinting in the opposite direction, she dodged a curse by her left ear. Another one.

"You can't run forever, sweetie!" She could hear them behind her, panting to follow her. She didn't know where she was going or what she was doing. She sent a hex back at them, and heard a groan to tell her she'd hit her mark.

"Expelliarmus!"

Her wand shot out of her hand. She dived to retrieve it, but it rolled back to where the men had stopped and out of her reach. Lying on the ground, they towered right over her, and she had nowhere to run.

"There we go," the man hissed, picking up her wand. The other man was well back, hacing got a full face of her hex. "Now you're all mine, aren't you?"

"No," she groaned.

"Yes," he said.

She lay exhausted on the ground, chest heaving, staring back into those eyes with defiance. The man knelt down so their noses were inches apart. Then he raised his hand and slapped her across the face. She gasped as his rings dug into her flesh and remembered being 16 again and getting the same treatment from the Carrows for believing in Harry… Harry…

As though the name had empowered her, she lifted her feet and kicked them hard in the man's face. He cried out and fell back in pain. She jumped to her feet and grabbed her wand from him. With one destination in mind, she Disapparated.

Having History of Magic meant one thing: a nice nap. That was the attitude for most of the class, at least. Hugo was flinging his quill across the room and summoning it back to one side of Lily while Briony passed notes with Josie. Most of the kids found History of Magic a useful time to test out the latest Wheezes they bought over their holidays. Over the course of the lesson, as Lily tried to focus as hard as she could on Professor Binns, she found herself receiving several paper cranes in her hair.

The boys behind her were messing about. Yorkin, a Gryffindor and Leon's friend, was throwing shredded paper at Leon, who flicked his wand and turned them into small - yet noisy - paper cranes. She ignored them, and tried to concentrate on what the teacher was saying – no doubt it would be in her OWLs. She heard the boys behind her guffaw and something prickled the top of her head. She reached up, frowning, and pulled down a paper crane. It cried under her grip. She rolled her eyes and turned around to place the crane carefully on the edge of Leon's desk. "Very funny," she said. He laughed.

"Did you read it?" he asked, pushing it back into her hands. She pressed her lips together and unfolds the crane. "Dear Lily, you're pretty," she read aloud. She smiled and folded it back up. He looked so hopeful, it almost made her laugh.

"It's very cute," she said. She pushed it slightly further onto the desk so that he couldn't give it back to her.

"Thanks," he blushed. He looked eager to say something more, but she turned to face the front again.

"Someone's popular," Hugo muttered to her as he retrieved his quill.

"Hush up," she mumbled as a flush crept up her neck.

Potions passed in much the same way, except everybody made an effort to listen. It started with an introduction to OWL potions and how important OWLs are so remember to listen and blah blah blah…

"Ten points if you get it past his head," Lysander whispered to Nicholas, his quill poised to be thrown.

"Nah, look, he's moving," he whispered back. "20 at least."

"Bullshit," Lorcan hissed. "15."

Both other boys sighed and Nicholas quickly wrote it down. They were sitting in Transfiguration with Professor Enson, who was going on again about their coarsework for the year. It was clear that nobody cared, and was really only doing it to fill in subjects. Lysander raised his quill and flicked it, and Nicholas used this opportunity to whisper to Lorcan.

"Do you think Lily's alright?" he asked quietly. Lorcan frowned and looked at him.

"Lily Potter?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you care?"

"I don't," he said quickly. "I'm just worried. She seems a little off."

"That's just Lily. She's always off. You just go with it."

"So you're not worried?"

"Why should I be?"

"20 points!" Lysander whispered suddenly. They both turned to look at him and smiled.

"Well done," Nicholas said, picking up his quill. "My turn."

As they headed to Defence Against the Dark Arts, someone grabbed Nicholas's hand and slipped theirs into it. He jumped and turned to see Alexis, smiling cheekily.

"Hi, baby," she grinned and pressed her lips to his. Lorcan and Lysander went crazy.

"Frat!" they screamed and pointed in the busy corridor. "Frat! Sir, that's fraternising!" Alexis reached over and slapped his arm.

"I'll let it slide this one time," said a voice from behind them. The four of them spun around to see the new teacher, Professor Lupin, smiling down at them. Alexis let go of Nicholas's hand and shuffled into the classroom, head bowed. The three boys did the same, supressing grins and leisurely seating themselves at the back.

"This is getting ridiculous," mumbled Al as he sat between Rose and Scorpius, both of whom were staring pointedly in opposite directions. As the Potions teacher talked about NEWTs, Al scribbled notes down and tried not to freeze to death between them.

"Rose, don't you want to get some of this down?"

She ignored him. He sighed. "Scorpius?"

"I'll grab yours later," he said.

"Oh, no you won't," Rose snapped suddenly. "Don't let him, Al."

"Rose, calm down," Al said calmly.

"Don't tell me to calm down," she fumed loudly. He put a finger to his lips, which she ignored. Luckily, Professor Evercreech didn't notice the squabble at the back.

"She wouldn't if you begged, Al," Scorp said coldly. "It's in her blood."

At this, Rose did turn to look at him with a scowl. "You want to talk about blood? Why don't we spill some of yours and compare – "

Al grabbed her before she tried to launch herself across the table, which she seemed close to doing. She struggled as he held her hands on her lap.

"Rose, seriously," he said. "We're in a classroom."

She said nothing for a moment. Al went back to listening, while keeping a close eye on his friends. Scorpius seemed to have forgotten what had just happened and was doodling on some parchment. Rose was still staring at the sky with crossed arms.

"You know," she said suddenly, when Albus had nearly forgotten about what had happened. "This is as much your fault as it is his."

He dropped his quill, preparing for a long fight. "How?"

"If your little whore of a sister could keep her legs together – "

"Hey!" he hissed, frowning at her. "She's your cousin."

"Not anymore," she whispered back.

"What, you're suddenly no longer acknowledging her existence? Cutting her from the family tree?"

"Well, it's not like she doesn't deserve it." Al had no retort for that. They sat in complete, cold silence for the rest of the lesson.

Teddy was in the classroom when they arrived after lunch. Lily bounded right up to where he stood with his back to the classroom and stepped up on tiptoes. She threw her hands over his eyes.

"Guess who?" she cried excitedly. She saw Leon walk into the classroom looking slightly annoyed, and grinned wider.

"Hugo," he said. Hugo, who had taken his seat beside where Lily had put her books, looked offended.

"HEY!" he shouted in annoyance. Teddy grabbed the hands and pulled them off, spinning around to look at Lily.

"Argh, how could I not have guessed?" he said. "Go sit down." She did as she was told, biting her lip to pull off her grin. He clapped his hands together and the class fell silent.

"So," Teddy started, "I'm Professor Lupin. You can't" (he looked pointedly at Lily for this) "call me Teddy, Ted, TeddyBear or anything but Professor Lupin. All good? Alright." He spun around to face the board and picked up a piece of chalk. "Who knows what's on this year?"

"OWLs, sir," said a girl at the back.

"Right you are," Professor Lupin agreed, and he wrote it on the blackboard. "I think you'll find in all your classes, you'll be marked as though it was an OWL assessment. This class is no different. I expect Excellent from all of you." But as he spoke, he winked. "We have a guest speaker coming in a few times this year, I think you've all had him before, have you not? Harry Potter?"

Lily and Hugo groaned loudly and Lily dropped her head onto the desk. Teddy laughed. "Right, well, he'll be teaching you some new things, it'll be great – "

"Are you a metamorphagus?" someone asked from the back of the class. Teddy frowned and then relaxed.

"Yeah, I am, but – "

"Oh, show us, show us!" Half the class giggled and cried out this statement. Teddy looked torn.

"Just a little bit, won't you?" Arabella White asked.

"I… I suppose…"

"Do it, please!" Aimee Cold, a Gryffindor, begged. Teddy sighed, then screwed up his face. When he opened his eyes, they were a light violet. The girls oohed, while Lily rolled her eyes. After several more demonstrations, Teddy silenced them and started talking about defensive spells.

As Teddy talked, Lily listened. She tried to, but it went straight through her head. Because the only thing she could think was should I tell Teddy?

He would make it better. Would he? He could tell her what to do. He would tell her how to stop the freakouts and flashbacks and the nightmares. She had the nightmares under control though – a simple silencing charm on herself before she went to bed sorted everything out. But she couldn't stop the flashbacks, and every second she was on the edge, wondering if it was coming. But she just wanted to tell him so it would seem lighter. The burden of what she saw was starting to weigh down on her, a secret she couldn't keep any more.

But to divulge such a secret seemed even worse, like she was giving away part of her soul. She was scared. Scared of what, she didn't know. But somehow in her mind, she had started to believe that these flashbacks were making her weak, that if she told people, she would be at her weakest, most vulnerable. It kept her strong as long as she never showed that it bothered her. When her guard slipped, though, it was scary.

But when the bell rang, it was not her who hung back; it was Hugo. "You right?" she asked when he deliberated in packing up his things.

"Yeah, fine, go ahead. Tell Professor Longbottom I'll be late, won't you?"

Her eyes flickered to Teddy, who was sorting out his own books at the front of the class. She nodded and headed out.

Hugo wrung his fingers and let out a sigh of relief when she was gone. He took one last look around the classroom, saw it was empty, and slung his backpack onto his shoulder.

"Oi, Teddy," he said, standing next to the older boy. Teddy straightened and poked Hugo hard in the stomach.

"Can't talk to your teacher like that!" he said.

"What are you going to do about it?" Hugo said.

"Put you in detention, maybe?"

"You wouldn't. Listen, Teddy, can we talk?"

Teddy looked around and shrugged. He pulled himself up so he was sitting on his desk. "Sure buddy. What's up?"

Hugo shuffled his feet awkwardly. Teddy crossed his arms, a worried expression on his face, and waited.

"I have something that… I don't know how to deal with."

"Which is?"

Hugo hesitated again, and Teddy waited.

"I think I might need to tell people something," he said, avoiding Teddy's eyes and barely opening his mouth. "About me."

"Which is?" Teddy repeated.

Neither boy said nothing for a few moments. Then Hugo took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

Neither of them said anything for a very, very long time. Hugo was sure he was going to be very late for his next class, but he didn't care. He didn't look at Teddy. He stared at the ground. His mind raced. And then –

"Well, fuck."

Hugo started. He lifted his eyes to look at Teddy for the first time. Teddy's were still violet.

"Does anybody know?" Teddy asked.

"Just Lily. But… I think people suspect."

"Right." Hugo did not say anything. Teddy did. "I'm glad you told me, Hugo." The younger boy nodded. With nothing left to say, Teddy held up his hand and Hugo high-fived it, the way they did when Hugo was a kid. "See you, Kiddo."

"See you." He headed to Herbology feeling more dejected than before.

Lily used to think of her mother every waking moment. Especially when she first left. Slowly, always became usually, then usually became sometimes, and sometimes became 'not if she can help it.'

But as soon as she walked into that Herbology classroom, 'not if she can help it' became 'always.' And she hated that. It was why she hated Herbology. With the usual introduction about OWLs, Professor Longbottom gave them all some rare plant to study that tried to eat your hand. Hugo came in fifteen minutes late and handed Professor Longbottom a note before slipping next to Lily.

"Well?" she whispered as she avoided a bite.

"I told Teddy," Hugo said hurriedly.

"Told Teddy what?" Hugo raised his eyebrows at her and her jaw dropped. "You did?"

"Yeah. He was totally fine with it."

"Wow."

Hugo nodded. Lily had nothing else to say. Halfway through the lesson Josie got a bite from the weird plant in a totally-un-Josie-like way and Lily had to take her to the hospital wing, so she didn't have a chance to talk to Hugo again.

The bell rang as she was making her way back down to the Greenhouses to collect her things. She dragged herself back as people spilled out from classrooms to go back to their common rooms before dinner. Hugo was nowhere in sight in the Greenhouse as Lily picked up her bag. Rogerson Nott was the last out. He gave her a glare as she pulled her bag onto her back. She glared back until he was out of sight.

"Alright, Lily?" asked Professor Longbottom. Lily's attention snapped to him, where he was collecting in the plants for Herbology.

"Oh," she said. "Yes, sir."

"How - how are you?" he asked. His smile went from warm to sympathetic. She looked down, feeling scrutinized.

"Well, thank you," she replied, not sure whether or not she's lying, "and yourself?"

"I'm good! Actually, I just got a letter from your father."

"Oh," she said, pressing her lips together. She should have expected it. "How is he?"

"He's good, good. Sad, though. I know, even though he won't say it. He didn't expect it."

Lily frowned subconsciously at how suddenly her mother had flowed into the conversation. She dared to lift her eyes from the ground to see Professor Longbottom looking at her without a hint of a smile, but worry in his eyes. She pulled her arms tighter around herself and swung on her heels. She shrugged. "Nobody did." Now or never. "Does... have you..." She couldn't find the words. They held in her throat. He looked at her curiously, as curiously as all the teachers did. She felt the familiar lump rise in her throat, as if the sunset had set it off. She felt like one of Parvlov's dogs.

"Yes," Professor Longbottom said, without her having to finish the question. "She's written to me, once or twice." Lily inhaled sharply.

"Oh," she said simply. She stared at her feet. Silence filled the space between them, but the look he gave her said enough. "At least she's alive," Lily joked humourlessly. He said nothing for a while.

"She's fine," he said, answering a question she didn't dare to ask. "Safe. She's..." He didn't seem to know how to finish that sentence. He grimaced, clearly torn. She nodded, like that's all he needed to say.

"Did she say why she left?" Lily forced out. She holded her breath, staring past Neville's shoulder at the greenhouse, not quite ready to meet his eyes. The look she got reminded her why. He looked at her like he misjudged her, like she's a child, like what she heard needed to be censored, like she doesn't understand anything. She felt like there's a hole being dug in the bottom of her stomach. She looked away from him. She shouldn't have said anything; she shouldn't have come here at all.

"Lily," he started, pity dripping from his voice, "there are things she witnessed, things she saw, that people aren't meant to see. She's been through things you can't rebuild from and had to do things... Sometimes it's hard to live life normally. To rebuild, act like nothing is wrong, you know? Especially after a war like that. And then things got too hard, with her marriage, she couldn't be strong anymore. It got too much for her. There's a lot more than that, a lot you don't know. You might never know. But she wants to come back. When she's ready."

Lily nodded, like she understood, but she didn't. She didn't understand anything. Her father saw worse things. Professor Longbottom saw worse things. Everybody in that war saw terrible things, how come they hadn't gotten up and left? What made her mother so damn special?

"So I guess you'll be packing your bags soon too, huh?" she asked after a moment, ice dripping from her voice. The words tasted as bad as she felt.

"Lily, that's not-"

"Fair?" she asked. She looked up at him with cold, dark eyes. Her mother's eyes. "Right. Sorry. Because life is so fair, I should be too, right?" Her voice was lined with sarcasm.

He didn't say anything. He didn't try to defend himself, or her. He was old enough to know better. She didn't wait to hear what he had to say. She turned around and headed back up to the grounds, arms wrapped around herself, holding herself together as everything she said and heard came back to bite her. The tears were brimming, and blinking was doing nothing. She walked faster, begging to reach her dorm before the storm hit.

"Where were you?" asked Hugo as Lily finally emerged from her dorm and headed to dinner. She put some food on her plate.

"I had to go talk to Professor Longbottom," she said briefly.

"About what?"

"Why is it so important?" she snapped.

"Hey, hey, sorry," he said with an awkward laugh, holding up his hands in surrender. "Is that all your having?" he asked, pointing at her plate in an effort to change the subject. She raised her eyebrows but said nothing. He sat and glumly chewed his own chicken as Lily turned around to talk to some friends at another table. When she turned back to her plate, she nudged Hugo.

"Lysander and Lorcan want us to go eat with them," she said.

"Well, by all means, go ahead."

"You don't want to come?"

But there was a sadness in her voice that he couldn't ignore. He sighed, took one last bite, and pulled himself up from the table, following Lily to the Ravenclaw table. He sat in front of Lorcan, Lysander and their friend, who he'd never been introduced to and smiled as Lily made introductions.

"Hugo, Nicholas," she said with a small smile. As she engaged in some kind of discussion about some animal that probably didn't exist with the twins, Hugo turned to look up at the staff table. His eyes flitted over to Teddy, who was involved in a hearty discussion with Professor Hagrid. As he listened, his eyes scanned the tables of students eating and talking, and finally they landed on Hugo. Hugo beamed at him, and Teddy winked back.

Rose stared at the food Al had piled onto her plate and felt her stomach contort in disgust. She stared so intensely it was as if it had done her a personal wrong.

"You have to eat," Al said through a mouthful of potato.

"No I don't," she retorted sharply.

"What are you going to do, go on a hunger strike because your boyfriend broke up with you?" he asked incredulously. Rose hardly listened. Her eyes were on Lily, sitting there at the Ravenclaw table, being fawned upon. She watched the younger girl spear a small piece of potato and put it in her mouth. She even ate pretty. Rose stared at her in disgust. Al's eyes followed until they reached what she was saw.

"Oh," he said. "You're not eating because my sister eats." Rose made no comment, but didn't waver her eyes. "Well, if that's the case – hey Rose, my sister loves to talk. Maybe you should go on a talking strike too." She made no movement to acknowledge his joke, but he laughed at himself. He quickly solemned up though. He stared at her with those green eyes and looked almost pitiful. But when he spoke, he didn't sound it. "Grow up, Rose," he said, and with a final bite of his chicken, he was up and gone.

"You're up in a rush," Nicholas noted at Lily jumped up from the table.

"Oh, yeah, well, I said I'd go collect my friend from the hospital wing," she said. Nicholas nodded. She wondered if he was going to ask to accompany her again. She wouldn't half mind it this time, but it seemed his last experience had taught him a lesson. He gave her a small wave as she walked away.

She didn't notice someone else get up. She didn't see them keep close behind her as she started up towards the hopsital wing. She should have, though. The corridors were practically deserted, since everybody was at dinner or their dorms. But she didn't until she was heading through a corridor towards the hospital wing and someone called out to her.

So she turned around, and regretted it instantly.

Rose was standing ten feet away, looking both livid and hopeless. She was a mess, with tired eyes and frazzled red curls. At the sight of her, Lily only felt exhausted. She'd had enough tonight.

"What do you want, Rose?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh," said Rose, feigning innocence and surprise. "Oh, nothing. I'm only wondering if you're off to go give my boyfriend one. Oh, sorry, another one!" she cried.

"It was a kiss, Rose, and I said I was sorry," she said.

"Right, sorry. Nice word, isn't it?"

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like a psycho."

"That's what love does to you, Lily," Rose said quietly, with a wide, sad smile. She closed the space between them with small steps until her face was up against Lily. Then she whispered,"It makes you psycho."

Lily exhaled in annoyance. All day, she'd been getting the silent treatment from Rose, and now all Rose wanted was a heart-to-heart?" "Well, can't you go be crazy somewhere else? I have somewhere to be." She started to turn around.

"My boyfriend's pants, for instance?" Rose cried, making Lily stop short and turn back to face her.

Lily just sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Rose, I'm sorry I kissed your boyfriend," she said in a tired tone. "I was drunk and I was tripping and I didn't know what I was doing, but you have to get over it, OK?"

Rose was silent for a minute. Lily almost turned around again. And then –

"Fuck you, Lily."

Lily said nothing. She just stood there. Rose turned away this time. When she was almost at the end of the corridor, Lily said quietly: "Grow up, Rose."

And in that indefinite amount of space between them that was growing by the minute, Lily could have sworn she saw Rose flinch.

She was sitting on the steps to the entrance hall when Al found her. He sat beside her silently. She looked more of a mess than before, with mascara running down her cheeks. She was playing with her wand, making puffs of smoke form from it and fall to the ground.

"Figured you'd be here," he said.

"I don't want to talk." Her voice was hoarse from crying.

"Then I'll talk. Listen, Rose, I know I'm the chairman of the I Hate Lily club, but don't you think that maybe you're taking this a little… too far?"

"No," she said curtly. He pressed his hands together, like he was squashing a bug.

"Right. But maybe you should loosen up on her a little. You both need some time to cool off."

"No."

"Come on, Rose, this isn't right, you're taking this way too –"

"Don't fucking say it."

He clamped his mouth shut. She shot up onto her feet and stowed her wand in her pocket. She looked down at Albus.

"I'm not the one in the wrong here, Al. She is. I need you on my side for this, Albie."

She hadn't called him Albie since they were five years old. He stood up and smiled sympathetically at her. He kissed her foreahead and wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, like when they were kids. "I'm always on your side, Rosie-Posie."

The house still looked the same. In eight years, they had not moved. As she landed solidly on her two feet, she stared at the house around her in awe. The hedges were overgrown, the flowers were starting to loose their newly bloomed look, and the grass definitely needed some cutting. The cottage still stood as tall as ever though, and as familiar as though she had been there all her life. There were no toys scattered on the ground now, though. No discarded toy broomsticks. She could just make out another cottage across the field – Ron and Hermione's.

There was only one light on in the house. It came from the bottom right window. It was only ten o'clock, she hardly expected them to be asleep. Yet she felt exhausted herself, and was sure she was about to collapse any second now. Sleep seemed like the best thing in the world to her at that moment. She forced her legs to carry her to the window and peer inside.

It was still furnished the same. Half the photos on the wall were gone or replaced with ones that did not feature her. Nothing she didn't expect. Sitting on the couch in front of a blazing fire was Harry. Shr recognised him instantly – he had not changed one bit.

He was sitting up, leaning forward over the coffee table and going through several files, frowning in concentration. A goblet sat to his right, untouched. She could see blue circles under his eyes. As she watched, he took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and then set them back on his face. Something he'd done for years.

And then it all came crashing down on her. The realisation that she was not in his life. That it had moved on without her, even if she had not. That the love of her life would probably not recognise her. That she was not even in his thoughts right now. Because everything they had… she'd given up.

But she went to the front door anyway and she knocked anyway and she waited anyway. And he opened the door. And he was so close, she could see the bristles of his unshaven face. She could see the bags under his eyes. She could see the faded scar on his forehead. She could see the slightly greying hairs. And she could see his green eyes, the ones she dreamt of, the ones she loved, the ones that used to look at her with such love, flash with realisation. And that was the last thing she could see, because as his name formed on her lips like a secret she could never speak, her legs gave way and her mind drowned her in darkness.